


Extraction

by Sushi



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Angst, Espionage, F/M, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 53,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sushi/pseuds/Sushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These were the half truths they told to each other, not outright lies, but personal agendas hidden in a swirl of doubt and deceit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jealousy and Car Exhaust

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help it.

A doughnut, a couple cups of coffee and the Sunday Washington Post were his self-prescribed down time. The café was filled with patrons hunched over their lap-tops, cords from their ear phones dangling down, connecting them to cyberspace and disconnecting them from the people around them. He always felt a little out of place with his newspaper spread out on the small cafe table, he knew the minute the news hit the printing presses it was old news, but this was a weekly ritual he enjoyed. Any other afternoon, he'd be sitting behind his desk at CIA Headquarters in Langley, hard copies of computer docs would be laid out in piles across his desk, and each file would lead him to further question the real motives of a secretive government organization named, Division.

Feeling like a luddite, he donned his coat and left the cafe. With his crumpled newspaper tucked under his arm, Ryan Fletcher sauntered up the sidewalk to the stoop of his brownstone apartment. He thought about the different Washington insiders and who had the most to gain and to loose, by getting in bed with Division. The deeper he delved and the more he uncovered, the trail would always come to a dead end, but he knew, if he stuck with it, he would get his answers. Whoever in the government sanctioned this clandestine organization would be found.

He stopped in front of his building and shuffled the newspaper from one arm to the other, searching for his keys, when a low harsh voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I need to talk to you."

He knew that voice and he knew it meant trouble. He turned around and stood face to face with Division's second in command. The scowl on the man's face caused him to step back involuntarily. "What do you want? You know, there are witnesses everywhere and…"

Michael glared at him and his voice was filled with frustration. "You're an idiot if you think I'm here to kill you, although it wouldn't take much to change my mind. I'm here because of Nikita."

When he said her name, Ryan knew what this was about. "What about Nikita?" She had warned him that Division could be anywhere and his involvement with her meant privacy was a thing of the past.

Michael's tall lean frame took a step forward invading the buffer zone that two people usually keep between them. "Nikita's in enough trouble, and I don't want to see her get hurt, especially if it's because she's trying to save your analytical ass." He pointed a finger at him. "You have no idea what you're doing. Don't make me come after you." The dark menacing look in his eyes was not to be dismissed.

Ryan saw the fire in his eyes and he knew then and there that Nikita had neglected to tell him a few details about him… about them. "What are you saying? Don't work with her, don't see her, or don't sleep with her?" He knew he should have kept his mouth shut when he saw the look of contempt on his face and how he clenched his hands into fists. He totally thanked the gods when the family that lived in the apartment below his, walked up.

Michael took a deep breath and stepped back. "I'm sure you understand my concern." He kept his voice even and controlled but his posture was tight and the hateful look remained in his eyes.

He tried his best not to look intimidated. " I think I'm beginning to." He watched him walk away and get into a dark sedan. The CIA Analyst mentally slapped himself on the side of his head, the barrier he had felt between he and the rogue agent wasn't imaginary, he watched it drive away in a cloud of car exhaust & jealousy.

In his rear view mirror, Fletcher grew smaller as Michael accelerated his car and sped down the street. His anger was tempered with a sprinkle of humiliation; threatening the CIA agent was petty and he knew it. The fact that he couldn't help himself was where the problem lay. He could have told him that Nikita was poison, manipulative and a traitor, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Knowing how to compartmentalize the different facets of his life was critical to his success as a Division agent. He was methodical at planning and prepping, always keeping in mind the probabilities of success and working out a contingency plan, but Nikita was the one person in his life that caused him to act recklessly and impulsively. He tried not to think about her, it caused too many conflicted feelings to rise to the surface, but even in his memory she eroded his self-control. The dark lines that were etched into his face softened for a moment as his thoughts brought him back to a time he would not forget.

 _"South side of the room, target's alone and on his phone. He has the package." Nikita's voice was smooth and confident, she stood at the dimly lit bar, wearing an ivory colored cocktail dress that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination. She practically glowed in the subdued light._

 _"Copy that. Team Two, he's all yours." Michael replied sounding smug._

 _Nikita sipped her glass of wine and watched two Division agents pick up the Government turncoat. They checked the pocket of his blazer, found the disc that implicated him, and escorted the shocked looking man out of the lounge. She had been the perfect bait to lure him out, and one of the few Operatives who could keep the delicacy of the mission intact. Michael walked up and joined her at the bar. Instead of his usual serious expression, his eyes were filled amusement._

 _He motioned to the bartender and ordered a shot of whiskey. "That went by the book, it took all of three and half hours from beginning to end, I even timed it."_

 _Nikita looked at him, dressed in his dark suit and crisp white dress shirt, and smiled suggestively. "Three hours and eleven minutes." She leaned toward him and couldn't stop herself from enjoying the scent of his cologne. "I timed it too."_

 _He found it disturbing but also intoxicating, somehow she had crashed through his professional barricade. He knew she felt the chemistry, it was thick and blanketed them like a cloak. "You seem to be feeling pretty self-assured this evening." He knocked the shot back easily._

 _"Always. You know me too well." She set her glass down on the bar and shrugged. "I guess it's time to go." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, she looked away refusing to make eye contact._

 _Michael heard it and it bolstered his courage. "We can take our time, Tomas has it handled." He looked at her and questioned his sanity._

 _Nikita eyed him quizzically when he brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and his fingers gently lingered. "Michael? What are you doing?" She whispered._

 _"No one's watching, just consider this part of our cover." He leaned in and kissed her and felt her lips turn up into a smile. When she returned the kiss, they both knew exactly what they were doing._

Michael slammed on the brakes, his car was half way through the red light and he cursed at himself. This was not good. When she had run from Division, he thought he was done with her. Now that she was back, not as friend but foe, he felt himself breaking into two, and he wasn't sure what side would prevail.


	2. Difficult Truths

"There, that's him." Alex pointed to a trim looking man with graying hair and a fair complexion. She leaned over her mentor's shoulder and studied the computer monitor intently at the match that came up from the database. "I saw his picture and case notes up on the overhead monitor. I hung around long enough to find out he's a programmer for the DoD and he has something to do with fail safe codes. He's disappeared and the State Department wants to know where he is, but here's the rub, so does Gogol.

Nikita looked back at her young colleague. "I know what's going on here. Division's task is to keep the codes secure, but Percy doesn't care about this man's life, I can hear him now, collateral damage, he's such a bastard." She shook her head. "We have to find him before it's too late."

Alex looked at her eagerly. "What's next? What do you want me to do?"

She stood up from her stool. "You're going to lay low. I need you to be on the inside, help me get the intel I need."

Alex couldn't hide her disappointment. "I'm an Agent now, I could help you out in the field, if you let me."

"I know, but what you do on the inside is important, you believe me when I say that, right?"

Alex couldn't hide her disappointment, but nodded. "All right, it's just that I want to bring Division down now, not later."

Nikita stood and picked up a black duffel bag, she went to her arms locker and raised the lid, selecting an array of weapons and ammunition to go into it.

"Alex, I know you don't want to hear this, but have you thought what would happen if we were both taken out? It would be the equivalent of giving Percy a Presidential Pardon. There's only one other person I know who wants to take Division down as much as we do, and I have no idea where he is or what he is doing."

Alex looked thoughtful. "Owen Elliot?"

Nikita nodded and wore a look of resignation. "I haven't had contact with him in months. The last I heard, he was headed to London in search of one of Percy's Black Boxes."

Alex looked at her curiously. "What about Ryan Fletcher? Isn't he someone who's looking for truth and justice?"

"He is." Nikita smirked and continued to transfer items into her bag. "But he's no Superman."

Alex smiled at the comment. "Well, he is pretty cute in a Clark Kent kinda way."

Nikita raised her eyebrows and cocked her head ever so slightly. "The last thing I need is Ryan getting caught in any crossfire. He's smart and wants to stop Percy, but he's also vulnerable because he wants to do what's right, not what might be necessary."

The younger woman nodded in agreement. "Okay, I get it, and I'm here for you. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

"What I want is to make sure you stay alive." Nikita stopped what she was doing. "Alex, you have to find someone to trust. It can't be just anyone, it has to be someone you know can take care of themselves."

"I've been thinking about that, trust, you have to earn it, not just talk about it."

Nikita went to her dressing table and unlocked a drawer, pulling out a clear envelope that held a passport and I.D. "You're right. You have to know their motives, and that's not easy to do. The contacts I've made know I can be trusted, but they also know if they double-cross me, I'll put them out of business."

"What about Michael? Do you trust him? When I was in training, he promised that he would protect me, but I never knew what that really meant?" Alex looked and sounded confused.

A pained look crossed Nikita's face. "Michael's loyalty is to Percy and Division, that makes him dangerous." The thought of him caused her heart to beat faster. "If something happens to me, and you have no one else to go to, he won't pull the trigger without hearing what you have to say, but Alex, you can't count on him, if you do, you'll be disappointed."

Alex knit her brow, there was something in Nikita's tone and the way her face clouded over that made her think, they weren't exactly talking about the same thing.

"Nikita?"

She blinked at the sound of her voice. "It's all good, wait for my message, okay?"

Alex nodded and walked towards the stairs, she looked over her shoulder and saw Nikita staring out of the large window, lost in thought.

 _"Nikita, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be with you, but..."_

 _"But what Michael? It's dawned on you that Division and Percy mean more to you than me?" She had to say it, what she feared the most was always the truth. "You know I can't stay, you know I'll die if I stay here."_

 _His eyes grew dark with anger. "Percy will hunt you down. Why can't you just do the job?"_

 _Nikita looked away, a feeling of dread had overtaken her. "You're asking me to be someone I'm not."_

 _He answered with bitterness in his voice. "And you're not asking the same from me?"_

 _It took a lot on her part to say these words, emotional courage was something Division tried to steal from you. "No, that's not true, I know who you are. What I'm asking is that you choose me."_

 _Michael grimaced, as if the words cut into him. "Nikita, if this were right, I'd know it. Do you understand?" The look of conflict on his face told the story._

 _She knew she was asking for something he wasn't ready to give. He might never be ready. "Yes, I understand." She fought the urge to cry. "I understand that we are both going to regret this." The denial on Michael's part hurt more than she would ever admit, she had been so foolish to think that a love affair with him was even possible._

The sound of the door closing behind Alex brought her back.  She stepped away from the window and went back to her packing.

 _  
_


	3. The Elephant in the Room

Percy wore his usual dour expression and barely acknowledged Michael's presence when he walked into Operations. He kept his eyes on the overhead monitors before muttering. "You've picked your team?"

Michael folded his arms in front of him and nodded. "Yes, but how cooperative do you think the target will be if his family is being threatened?"

The older man was just a beat away from rolling his eyes at him. "DoJ is willing to put them all into the Witness Protection Program. Do your job and their safety won't be an issue." He gave him a condescending look. "If you can take him alive, fine, but we have our orders, so that means you have your orders, those codes cannot get into Gogol's hands. Do you understand?"

"I understand." He said firmly, knowing this wasn't an imaginary threat to national security. He would do whatever necessary to prevent the codes from being compromised, but he made a private commitment to himself, no loss of life would take place on this mission.

"And one more thing, since that piece of street trash seems to show up uninvited, you still have your orders to confirm the kill, right?"

"Yes, of course." Michael blinked twice, it was a sure sign he felt conflicted and Division's autonomous leader knew it. Like himself, Percy knew he had his own way of doing things. Michael was the consummate soldier, and in the beginning he was all about getting the job done, efficiently and effectively. His lack of compassion made things less complicated, but he always knew that the young man he rescued from the Naval Hospital in Yemen wasn't a death row inmate whose options had run out, he was here because he sought justice.

Over the last nine years, he had done an excellent job in completing his assignments, and the few who knew he existed were pleased. Percy had him under control, he always knew when to spout off about the greater good, after all he was the propaganda master, and he knew when to dangle the death of his wife and child in front of him. He quietly made sure that vengeance was never far from his mind.

However, since Nikita had resurfaced, there was a problem. She had fanned a flame in Michael, one that had never completely been extinguished, and Percy knew this could lead to trouble. Michael was far too valuable to cancel without good reason. Disposing of Nikita was the better solution, but he had begun to doubt Michael's ability to do it. For Percy, this was all a game, one he planned on winning, and for that very reason, he had given Division's Cleaner his own orders.

Percy smirked back at Michael. "You have a little talk with Fletcher?"

He nodded. "I warned him, Nikita wasn't to be trusted, his involvement with her was dangerous." This was one of the many half-truths he and Percy constantly exchanged. They were never outright lies, rather personal agendas painted to look like facts.

"Good. We need to keep a wedge between Nikita and her new boyfriends." He turned to walk away, but was aware of the fleeting look of pain on his subordinate's eyes. "Birkhoff, I'm in my office.

The Tech Wizard nodded his head. "Yes, Boss."

He looked up to see the Head of Division walk out the door, and turned his attention to Michael. "You heard him, if those codes get into the wrong hands, Percy's going to be shoveling shit, and there is definitely a trickle down affect in this place. I for one don't want to be at the bottom of it." He reached for a can of Red Bull and popped the top off of it.

Michael scowled and gave him a dismissive look, but knew he wasn't completely off base. "Did you run your probability analysis?"

"Affirmative." He pointed to his monitor. "This one has a green light of eighty percent. He owns lake front property in upstate New York, the title is under an LLC, here's the information."

Michael had a way of narrowing his eyes and one could practically see the gears in his head turning. "Send a couple of agents ahead to gather intel and survey the site."

Birkhoff hunched over his keyboard and grunted, but then he stopped to look at Michael. "I know you don't need or want my advice, but you'd better get a handle on Nikita. Percy's keeping score, and you my friend are way behind."

Michael threw him an undecipherable look. "You're right, I don't need your advice, I know who I'm dealing with."

****

"Nikita, you should have told me about you and Michael."

If he had been there in person instead of on the phone, he would have seen the frown on her face as she raced down the highway away from the city. "There is nothing to tell." The minute the words left her mouth, she knew this was one of the lies that had become her life, but telling Ryan Fletcher about her past with Michael wasn't something she wanted to discuss.

Ryan sighed and leaned his elbows on his desk. "Then why the hell did he stop me in front of my apartment building and threaten to come after me if I kept working with you?" He had parked himself behind his computer, with one hand holding his phone, and the other tapping on the keyboard, he searched the DoJ database looking for information on Michael and Nikita. Last names would help, he thought to himself.

She came back at him with more than an edge in her voice. "Listen Ryan, Michael and I were teamed up when I was in Division. We have a history, using me is just an excuse to try and spook you off of their trail."

He shrugged into the phone. "Nikita, analyst, that's with a capital A, and that's what I do, analyze. I know what I saw and his motives are personal."

She quietly took a cleansing breath. Michael's image confronted her. "We have some unfinished business."

Ryan shook his head. "The last thing any of us need is some personal baggage to screw things up."

"Screw things up? So what are we talking about, Division, Michael and I, or you and I?" She knew she was being harsh and regretted blurting it out. "Ryan, if you don't want to work with me, just say it."

"It's not that, I do want to help you bring Division down, but we have to be on the same page, agreed?"

Nikita knew she owed it to him. "Agreed, but let's get his straight, Michael's not the reason I ran from Division. What I'm doing is not about him."

They both wanted to believe what she said, but that still didn't make the elephant in the room disappear. "All right, but Nikita, you'll have to figure this out, he is Division and you may not be able to save him. Then what?"

She was glad he couldn't see her, it made it easier to tell the truth within the lie. "I told you, I'll do what I have to do."

He felt a pang of sympathy for her. As tough as she was, he had seen the look of vulnerability in her eyes. He resisted the urge to talk about it. "I believe you and I'll do whatever I can to help you."

Nikita sighed to herself. "Thank you Ryan, we're trying to save a life here, and if those codes get out, who knows how many others."

She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the empty passenger seat next to her.


	4. Mission Interrupted

Each time she rode the elevator down, floor by floor into Division Headquarters, she reminded herself she had a purpose. She was still overwhelmed by her circumstances, but it was true, she had been given a second chance, and it was Nikita who gave it to her, not Division. Remembering this gave her courage, and this is what set her apart from the other recruits.

Alex walked off of the elevator out onto the training floor, the fluorescent lights, the smell and the underlying noise of discontent welcomed her. It had been a complete shock to her system when she first arrived, but now it was familiar, and in its own odd way, comforting. The call to come in for a briefing came right after she had returned to her apartment, and after reviewing the brief amount of information provided, she had immediately contacted Nikita. She went straight to munitions where he was assembling his team. Alex donned her body armor and fastened the extra clips of ammunition onto her belt alongside three other agents.

"Everyone review the mission plan?" It wasn't really a question, but rather an expectation, and Michael searched the faces of the four other operatives looking for any signs that might lead to an anomaly. He knew, even if he saw something amiss in any one of them, there was little he could do about it. His only option was to complete the mission, but he always prepared himself for what might go wrong.

When no one answered, he nodded. "Let's go." They filed out, one by one and he followed them to the vehicle staging area. He couldn't help but eye Alex suspiciously, there was something about her that didn't quite add up, maybe it was Amanda's insistence that she was hiding something or maybe it was because the last time someone shone so brightly, her name was Nikita. Whatever it was, he had decided the best way to handle his concerns was to let them play out.

Alex's sixth sense told her to look up and when she did, she saw the wary expression on his face. Rather than turn away, she glared back at him, challenging him to confront her, but he only tilted his head in acknowledgment and neither gave up an explanation.

The group piled into a transport van that had been waiting for them and ten minutes later they were pulling into a private airport and boarding a Learjet.

Once in the air, Michael spoke to his team. "The probability that we'll find our target here is over eighty percent. Once we are on the ground, we'll take a transport vehicle to within a quarter mile of the property. We won't know the exact location of the target until we're on site. Carlos goes in with me and Brian and Alex backs us up. Remember, this is an extraction, I want to take the target alive."

* * * * *

The Russian scratched his shaved head, he sat inside of the SUV and peered out of the windshield scanning the area for any unusual signs before taking his radio transmitter in hand.

"Illya, report?" He waited for a reply, but when none came, he began to feel anxious. "Illya, where are you?"

"Sorry Andrei, taking a piss." He grunted, sounding slightly out of breath. "All clear."

"Don't stray or Ari will order me to feed you to the wolves." Andrei said gruffly. "They should be here soon."

Illya looked at the diminutive women who held him at gun point, when she pressed the barrel of her gun hard against his cheek, he answered. "Check."

He looked at her warily, Ari had warned them about this rogue agent. Maybe it was her lithe physique or her expertise in martial arts, whatever the reason, Nikita had quietly taken him down, he never knew she was there until he hit the ground. With the help of her Glock, it didn't take much to convince him to cooperate.

She kneeled down on his chest, pressing the air out of his lungs "How many?" When he didn't answer she cocked the gun.

Illya gasped, his eyes wide with terror. "Just the two of us, but more coming."

She eased ever so slightly and he made his move, propelling her off of him. The radio fell to the ground and he reached for it, but before he could grab it, she sprung forward, her foot came crashing down on his wrist, and her Glock came down hard across his head.

Nikita muttered to herself as she picked up the radio and placed it into her pocket. "Bad move Illya." She rolled him onto his stomach and used a plastic zip tie to bind his wrists together and another on his ankles. She took his shoes off, tossing them into the brush, before removing one of his socks and stuffing it into his mouth.

Satisfied with her work, she silently disappeared into the woods.

Inside of the SUV, Andrei rested his head against the back of the seat, he gripped his pistol with one hand and held the two-way radio in the other. He closed his eyes for a moment, even though an experienced Gogol agent would know, this was a breach in security. He soon learned this lesson when the door on his side of the vehicle flew open and a hand reached in and squeezed his esophagus with enough force that he dropped both his gun and radio, and his hands flew up to his neck defensively. The next thing he knew, he had been thrown onto the ground, where Nikita held her gun to his forehead. She made sure he heard her cock the gun.

"Where are they?" She hissed at him, demanding an answer.

Andrei's eyes grew wide; unable to believe this woman who weighed no more than a hundred pounds, had him pinned against the ground. He finally gasped out a breath of air, and coughed. Then suddenly he reached up and tried to knock the gun from Nikita's hand, but she was too quick and stepped back. The momentum caused him to roll onto his side and she whipped her gun against the back of his head. Andrei's large frame lay sprawled on the ground.

"You should have just told me." She mumble as she took two more plastic zip ties out of her jacket pocket and proceeded to give him the same treatment she had given Illya. She placed Andrei's radio and cell phone in her other pocket before giving him a pat on the head and once again, crept into the woods and faded from sight.

* * * * * *

The four members of the extraction team looked at the satellite map on the laptop computer. He looked at the determined faces in front of him. "Alex and Brian, here and here. " He pointed at the map showing them where to go. "Don't let anyone past you, do whatever necessary, listen for orders, I want the target alive. Carlos comes with me, we'll head toward the structure and approach it from two sides." He looked at the driver. "Peter, when I give the word, I want this van ready to roll, got that? Everyone stays on the same frequency." Michael watched his agents all test their Com units and look back at him. "Go."

Alex went with Brian and they silently entered the woods keeping themselves parallel to the gravel road. The sky was overcast and without the bright sun they hid in the shadows. She saw and heard the vague rustle of underbrush and knew it was Michael and Carlos also in the woods headed toward the cabin. Alex nodded when Brian motioned that she should go ahead, she left to secure her position further into the property. When she found a good spot, Alex crouched down with her back against a tree, let out a breath of relief and removed the cell phone she had tucked into her bra. Using one hand, she sent Nikita a text, and waited.

Michael motioned to Carlos, they zig-zagged crossing through the trees and crept toward the road that led to the cabin. A clearing came into sight, a black SUV was parked about 50 yards from the building and they waited looking for any signs of activity.

A voice came through his Com unit, but it wasn't one he expected. "Two down, they're not going anywhere. I'm told more are coming. If you hurt the target, all hell will break loose."

Michael grit his teeth when he heard Nikita's voice. "What the hell are you doing? We're here to extract him, let us do our job."

Nikita sighed in his ear. "Gladly, but I'm watching you and..." She was abruptly interrupted, by the sound of automatic gunfire.

"Michael?" She knew there was trouble when he didn't answer. She cursed to herself when the next voice was Carlos.

"Michael's down, we need to abort! I repeat! We need to..." Instead of finishing the sentence, he made a guttural sound when a bullet struck him.

The next voice was Brian's. "Alex! It's Peter, he must have ratted us out, there are five maybe six, all have assault weapons and..." All she heard was the muffled sounds of a struggle and the spray of bullets, and then it was eerily quiet.


	5. Captured

When he tried to roll onto his side, he experienced a sharp piercing pain behind his eyes that sent spasms through his body. Michael held himself rigid until the rippling ache subsided and his senses began to clear. He could smell the musty scent of mildew and it took him a few seconds to realize he was laying face down on a wooden floor, with his wrists bound behind him and his ankles tied together. Somewhere, around the edges of his mind, he remembered a hailstorm of bullets. Their assailants weren't trained snipers but a group of thugs who fired indiscriminately. One bullet hit him dead center in his gut, and even though he felt like he'd been skewered, his kevlar vest stopped the bullet. The shot that took him out grazed his temple and the wound caused copious amounts of blood. That, likely saved him from taking another bullet. Carlos, he started to remember, wasn't so lucky.

He slowly opened his eyes and in the darkness he could see a crack of light coming from beneath a doorway. Other than that sliver, there was nothing else to tell him about his surroundings until he heard a jumble of noises that he finally recognized as muffled voices. He forced himself to focus and listened intently.

"This was not part of the plan…"

"One must seize an opportunity and this is an opportunity."

"I agreed to this subterfuge, but I didn't know there would be black ops involved. I just want my money."

"You'll get your money once we confirm the codes. Do you think I'm such a fool that I would pay you without any guarantees?"

"Please, I let you use me as bait, you said it would be a win win?"

"That I did, two birds with one stone... patience."

"What about this agent? You killed the rest of them, why let him live?"

"We have common interests, keeping him alive is prudent, at least for the moment."

"I don't like it, I didn't agree to this."

"I said patience. Do you by chance know what Occam's Razor is?"

"Yes, but what does that have to with me?"

"The simplest explanation for a problem is better than one more complicated. Don't make me put the principle to use, on you, with this gun."

Through the fog and pain, the mission plan came back to him. Their target was a DoD scientist and they were sent in to prevent a set of codes from falling into Gogol's hands. One voice belonged to the scientist and the other had an unusual cadence to it, Ari Tasarov.

He struggled to make sense of the conversation, he understood he was being use, but how? What had happened to Alex, Brian & Peter? What was Nikita doing here?

The vibration of footsteps on the wooden floor disrupted his thoughts, and the crack of light grew into a blinding arc when the door swung open.

* * *

Alex whipped around and pointed her automatic rifle at the noise behind her. She whimpered with anxiety when she saw Nikita standing there, her hands up defensively.

The rogue agent pressed her finger to her lips and opened her other hand. A Com unit sat in the middle of her palm.

Alex lowered the barrel of the gun, her heart pounding and took her own Com unit out. "God! Don't sneak up on me like that! I could have killed you!" She had been close to pulling the trigger and it scared her to even think about it.

Nikita crouched down next to her. "But you didn't, it's okay. How many on your team?"

"Michael plus four of us. Brian and I were watching the egress points, Michael and Carlos were going in to extract the scientist and Peter was the driver."

"You heard it on the Com? It sounds like Michael and Carlos walked into a trap, the driver sold you out."

Alex's eyes grew wide. "Do you think Michael's alive?" Her voice was filled with dread and her eyes glossed over with tears.

Nikita looked doubtful. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"What are you going to do?" Alex looked at her nervously.

Nikita blinked hard once. "I'm going in, see if I can find Mich... the scientist, but I want you to leave."

Alex looked shocked. "What? What do you mean leave? I can't do that!"

"The men who ambushed Michael knew he was coming, they know you're here. I'm the one who can get the drop on them, you need to go. Call Division, tell them what happened and how the mission was compromised. You still have the extra burner at your apartment?"

The young agent looked troubled but nodded her head.

"I'll call you and let you know what's happened." She hesitated for a moment. "Alex, don't expect Percy to do anything to save Michael." She reached into her pocket and handed her a slip of paper with a name and number. "Here. It's your call, but because it's Michael, maybe he'll help."

Alex looked up at her with a startled and confused expression. "Are you sure?"

"No, but our options are running out. Now go, and be careful."

She watched Alex retreat into the woods and when she was out of sight, she kept low, darting from tree to tree for cover. Her objective was to infiltrate the cabin, the scientist was most likely inside and she was determined to save his life, but from the moment she heard Michael was down, her mission parameters had become ambiguous. Nikita had every faith in Michael's ability to stay alive, but when she saw Carlos, a veteran operative lying in a pool of his own blood, it made her stomach drop and her usual strong veneer cracked enough to let doubt seep in.

The group that attacked the Division agents had disbursed and she was careful to make herself as invisible as possible. She heard voices and the sounds of twigs crackling under foot and the possibility of discovery kept her senses fine-tuned. Nikita stood with her back against a tree and with cat like grace she rushed across the gravel driveway and took cover behind the SUV. Her next move was to make it to the east side of the cabin where she thought she would be undetected. With her head down, she hurried toward the building and rounded the corner. Standing in her way was an agitated and disgruntled Andrei. He growled at her and minus any finesse, he threw a punch. She was taken by surprise and it hurled her back, but she found her balance and threw a kick that hit him in the side of the head. Andrei grunted and fell backwards. Nikita still gripped her gun and pointed it at him, but she never had a chance to use it, Illya who had also been turned loose, hit her from behind and she crumpled to the ground.


	6. Personal Agendas

As allies go, Nikita had simultaneously helped and hindered Ryan Fletcher in ways he couldn't have begun to imagine. After being kidnapped, tortured and set up to take the fall for assassinating a presidential candidate in Chile, he was just beginning to understand what he had been dragged into. Then came the fiasco, where he detained Seymour Birkhoff, and aided Nikita in commandeering his pass codes and hacking into Division's network. That stunt caused the blowback that landed him in the basement of CIA Headquarters. For the last month, he spent his days with other drones like himself, monitoring "chatter" from sources that only those with the lowest level of security clearance were tasked with analyzing. Being demoted had been more than difficult it had become demoralizing, but he had little choice in the matter. He suffered the consequences because he had something to prove, and Nikita had told him they could help each other.

What he hadn't anticipated was Michael accosting him and warning him away from Nikita. Ryan wasn't stupid, the last thing he needed was to get between some dysfunctional relationship between Nikita and Percy's surly lieutenant. He might not have been as well versed in the ways of the heart as some men, but he knew a train wreck when he saw one. Any fantasies he had nurtured about a romantic encounter with the rogue agent had been tempered by reality in the form of tall, dark and angry, but that didn't mean he was abandoning his mission.

He loosened his tie and rolled up the cuffs of his white dress shirt. He tried to tune out the humming computers and the indistinct one-sided telephone conversations that surrounded him. He glared at the four neat stacks of documents laid out on his desk. They were hard copies from the CIA Archives, and they taunted him with their clues, but having become nothing more than a cog in a wheel, he faced dead end after dead end.

For the hundredth hour, Ryan watched his monitor through disinterested eyes, reading through a conversation thread from some internet message board. The buzzing of his cell phone startled him out of his haze.

 _Unknown Caller_ flashed on the display and he sighed to himself, wondering what it could be about.

"Ryan Fletcher." He waited for a reply. "Hello?"

"She needs our help." The voice on the other end was electronically altered.

Ryan was mystified by the call. "Who is this? Help who?"

"Nikita." The robotic voice answered in staccato.

"What about Nik…" But the caller cut him off.

"Tomorrow." And with that final word, the line went dead.

Ryan sat back in his chair and stared at his phone, this wasn't some crank call. No one randomly called a busted CIA Analyst and name dropped Division's most wanted for laughs. The ominous feeling he had grew, and he wondered what the hell they had gotten themselves into this time.

* * *

The windowless van rocked back and forth and jostled her tired body, but as exhausted as she felt, her mind raced with the fury of a long distance runner. Alex knew she had to keep it together. The attempt to rescue the scientist had turned into something much bigger. Three members of her team were dead and Michael was no where to be found. She had little choice but to follow Nikita's instructions, so she walked in the opposite direction of the cabin and kept herself hidden in the woods until it was dark. She buried the burner that Nikita had given her and waited. Once she had the cover of night on her side, she walked the road before using her Com unit to call into Division. She was relieved to know they planned on extracting her from the failed mission. Two hours later, a van disguised as a plumbing truck picked her up. The agents inside were professional, but abrupt, they took her weapon and had her climb inside the cargo area of the van. When she tried to ask questions, they told her they were under orders not to talk to her. Alex was left with only her fears and worries to keep her company.

They returned to the airport and the agents prodded her onto the small jet. They treated her more like a prisoner than a colleague, glaring at her like she had committed some crime. Once back on the ground, she was loaded into another van, and when it finally stopped and the back cargo doors opened up, she saw she was back at Division. Alex was once again led off of the elevator and marched down the sterile hallway.

Amanda greeted them with a skeptical expression on her face. "You're going to be given a chance to get cleaned up and get some rest. You'll be debriefed in a few hours." The penetrating look she gave the young agent bordered on threatening.

"Do you know what happened to Michael?" Alex didn't need to fake sincerity, she was genuinely concerned for him, he was her team leader and the only one in the secretive organization that seemed to care about the agents and recruits.

"It's being dealt with." Amanda practically sneered at her before turning on her heels and walking away.

Alex was taken by the hostile agents to a holding cell. Inside was a cot and a small bathroom. One of the agents handed her a paper bag that contained a sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water. "Enjoy your dinner." She saw his smug expression as the door shut in her face and the sound of the deadbolt slid closed.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and her fatigued mind caused her thoughts to jump around. The sack lunch in her lap was a subtle way of demeaning her. She thought about the failed mission, the agents who were killed weren't her enemy and she felt regret at their deaths. It could have easily been her. Amanda would trick her into revealing something, she had to be strong. What was happening to Nikita? She told herself not to worry, Nikita of all people could take care of herself... or could she? She reached inside her bra and pulled out the slip of paper that Nikita had given her and stared at it. The name she would remember, so she memorized the number, saying it over and over in her head, before flushing it down the toilet.

She mentally mumbled the number in her head as she ate the apple. 917-555-9391... 917-555-9391... 917-555-9391... 917-555-9391. Alex couldn't help but wonder, could Birkhoff be trusted?

* * *

"You have it handled?" Percy raised his eyebrows at Amanda. She had walked into his office, looking calm and self assured.

Amanda smiled. Percy thought this is what the cheshire cat would look like if he were a mass murderer. "Of course. I'll give her a chance to collect herself.

He leaned back in his chair. "You think that's wise? She'll probably think up all kinds of excuses why they failed."

She crossed her arms and gave him that look of superiority she knew he admired. "I'm only looking for the truth."

He shrugged. "You still think she's hiding something? This seems to have become a personal quest, are you sure it's in Division's best interest?"

Amanda smoldered with amusement. "Oh, you mean like your personal agenda to make Nikita suffer. Really Percy, your traps are becoming rather elaborate."

Percy's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Well, it's one of the perks of being in charge."

She gave him a seductive and understanding look. "I'll let you know what I find out." Before she left, she turned to look over her shoulder. "What about Michael?"

Percy looked nonplussed. "I'll ensure his return if at all possible, but in the meantime he needs to exorcise Nikita out of his system."

Amanda nodded. "And you're the perfect Exorcist for the job." The words hung in the air like a noose swinging from the gallows.


	7. Percy's Plan

She struggled to free herself, but Andrei and Illya held her tightly between them. Nikita memorized every step she took and studied the layout of the rooms as they dragged her through the house. Her training had taught her to look for places to take cover and for possible escape routes and in her mind, this battle was far from over. When the door to a room in the back of the house opened, she was alarmed to see Michael wounded, bound and disoriented. The light from the hallway blinded him and his sight was still blurry from his head injury. He could barely make out the three figures standing in the doorway.

"Michael! These bastards won't get away with any of…" They cut her off when they pulled her back and slammed the door shut.

The Russians forced her down the hallway and into another room that contained an array of mis-matched furniture. Andrei wrestled her to the full size bed and took her right hand and handcuffed her wrist to the bedpost. Illya attempted to do the same to her left, but not before Nikita managed to land her knee in his groin. He doubled over and groaned, while Andrei hit her across the jaw, knocking the wind out of her.

Once her ankles were secured the same way as her wrists, Illya retaliated by clamping his hand around her throat and squeezing. "You bitch! You will be sorry!" He spit the words out while she fought to stay conscious.

Andrei yelled at him. "Nyet, you'll get us in the shit-house if you kill her." He tore a piece of duct tape off of a roll and slapped it over her mouth, the two thugs left the semi-conscious Nikita tied spread eagle to the bed.

In the back bedroom, Michael tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had instantly recognized Nikita's voice and was relieved to know she was alive, but why they had been kept alive, was the question.

* * *

Roan placed the binoculars in his jacket pocket and slid his eyeglasses back on his face. With the exception of the two men searching the bushes, the activity around the lake property had died down. The men looked foolish, especially when one of them emerged with a pair of shoes in his hand. Tossing shoes away was a poor substitute for a bullet, but this wasn't his mission or his call.

When he had arrived at the look out point, he watched them drag Michael into the cabin, which meant he was still alive. Lucky for the Russians, if he had died, Percy would not have been pleased. The Cleaner wasn't impressed by what he saw, until when one of the Russians walked up behind the Division driver, shooting him point blank in the back of his head. The critic in him thought it was efficient and relatively clean. That made three agents taken out; their lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground. The fourth was Alex and he hadn't seen any sign of her and was told one young female agent wasn't his concern.

When Nikita appeared, he almost laughed out loud at how predictable she was, skulking around the trees and the SUV. The two goons took her by surprise and Roan was surprised to see her go down. He watched them carry her away and into the cabin.

Walking back to his vehicle, he pulled out his cell phone and pressed a number on his speed dial. It rang once. "Cleaner number one, requesting a secure line."

"Just a moment." A few seconds later, Percy came back and said. "Go."

A confident look crossed the Cleaner's face. "It appears, all is going as planned."

* * *

 _Alex is inside of Amanda's cavernous office, watching her apply a coat of lipstick, while she sits at her dressing table. She smiles up at her insincerely. "I'm the one who will help you find your inner beauty." Her smug expression morphs into Nikita's face and her mentor's eyes are filled with concern. "I know who killed your parents. I've been searching for you for over two years."_

 _Nikita backs away from her, and as she fades from sight, Alex turns around and bumps into Nathan. He smiles down on her kindly. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look like you could use a friend." She's grateful and wants him to know it, but someone taps her on the shoulder and she turns around and comes face to face with Birkhoff. He gives her a defeated look and mutters. "Good morning Sunshine." She takes a step back and someone grabs her shoulders and forces her to turn around. It's Jaden and she says with attitude "I'm gonna bury you." When Alex blinks, it's Michael standing in front of her looking calm and well groomed. "We're giving you a second chance to serve your country." His concerned look turns into a scowl.  
_

 _The urge to bolt overtakes her, but instead of fleeing, she looks down and sees Thom's prone body on the ground. The bloodstain on the front of his shirt is growing. "You're gonna see me." He gasps. Alex feels remorse and guilt and walks quickly away. Her pace picks up until she is running, racing through a wooded area trying to outrun her regret. The pebbles, decomposing leaves and sticks cut into her feet, but there is no pain, only a sense of foreboding._

 _When she runs out into a clearing, she is standing in a truck stop. Large semi-trucks are connected to gas pumps and the parking lot's fluorescent lights shine down on her. Percy is here, with his arms folded in front of him. "If you're feeling sorry for him, don't. I need to know you believe that before I can promote you to agent." Before she can answer, he steps aside and her father is there, ghostly pale with a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. "Alexandra…" he whispers her name and looks at her with mournful eyes. "There is no one else, I am counting on you…"_

 _Her eyes clamp shut against the flood of tears she cannot control. She wants to call out "Papa… Papa" but she's mute. When she opens her eyes, she's in a box, sweat pours off of her and intermingles with her tears. She feels desperate and her entire body aches. She is in the sauna Nikita built to help her get clean. "I know how you feel…" her mentor says looking through the small window. "I know it hurts." She walks away and fades from view.  
_

 _Alex frantically pounds on the window with her fists. She has finally found her voice and screams. "I HAVE TO WASTE SOMEONE OR I GET WASTED!"  
_

Gulping down a huge breath of air, with her heart thumping wildly in her chest, her eyes flew open with a start. She was curled up in a tight little ball and it took her a few moments to realize she had been dreaming. A terrifying feeling of foreboding had her in a vise like grip.

When the door to her room was thrown open she sat up abruptly. A guard armed with an assault rifle walked in followed by Amanda.

"How are you feeling Alex?" Her voice was smooth and her concern as hollow as always.

Even through her fears, she thought it ironic that this woman had been the one to teach her to work through her panic attacks. "All right, although the bed is kinda hard." She said trying to hide her anxiety.

The older woman smirked at her. "You'll be back in your own bed tonight. It's standard protocol to monitor an agent whose been put in a life threatening position. We want to make sure you're coping."

Alex smirked back at her with a rebellious look on her face. "I appreciate your concern, is that why he's here?" She pointed at the guard.

Amanda's sinister smile made Alex's skin crawl. ""We're a family and family takes care of each other. This won't take long, we need to debrief and then you can go."

* * *

"Well? What did you find?" Percy had walked into Amanda's office. She was busy making notes in a small notebook.

Amanda looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "Nothing useful, but I still contend Alex is hiding something." She shrugged her shoulders. "She is genuinely sorry about the loss of life and the failed mission. She's also concerned about Michael's well being. You already know how the rest of it went down."

Percy sighed and sat down on the chair opposite her. "Perhaps she's the real thing. A good solid agent, a soldier who refuses to be entrapped by your psychological mind games."

She gave him a condescending look. "Maybe, but her nightmares are an indication that she's keeping secrets, and I want to know what they are."

Percy acknowledged her with an evil grin, then he looked at her eagerly. "It looks like the pieces of my plan are falling into place."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Good. I hope this works for your sake."

"You mean for Division's sake." He said tongue in cheek. "Once Roan kills the scientist, he'll sends Tasarov on his way with the codes. We've discussed it, he has a few tactics in mind to compel Michael to kill her. The psychotropic drugs should do the trick."

Amanda had to admit, Percy was quite diabolical. The lengths he was going to were extreme, even for him. "You're sure this won't result in Nikita killing Michael?"

"Of course not, Roan will make sure of that."

Amanda gave him a dubious look. "Are you really going to let Ari have those codes?"

"By the time Gogol breaks the encryption, they'll be new ones in place." Percy gave her a satisfied smile.

"Don't underestimate Ari's ways. He isn't quite the pushover you think he is. I understand he has Prokhorov backing him. That's better than the U.S. Government. He may be smarter than you think."

Percy looked untroubled. "Duly noted." He got up and walked out of her office without looking back.


	8. Meet Me

One end of the shabby looking shop was filled with vinyl records. Their dog-eared covers, stood on edge in bins on the tables. The other side contained racks of comic books and shelves of graphic novels.

Birkhoff perused the inventory and ran his fingers across the titles of the over sized paperback books. He chose one, than another and then two more. He was about to pick up a comic book when the trill of his cell phone interrupted his process. That process being, a day away from the depths of hell, known as Division.

He fumbled with his selections and took a small innocuous looking cell phone out of her pocket. The caller I.D. came up empty and he considered not answering it, but something in him made him reconsider.

"Who is this?" No one but a select few had ever had this number, he had gone to great lengths to keep it untraceable. This was one of the few secrets he had from Percy.

"Birkhoff?" The voice was female and familiar but this was way out of context and it caused the stirrings of panic. If he had been exposed, he had a much bigger problem than a wrong number.

"Birkhoff, it's Alex. I need to talk to you, in private, can we meet up someplace?"

"Hell no! How did you get this number? I'm so fucked if Percy finds out about this!" He whispered.

"It's about Michael."

"Michael? I don't know what you're talking about and I'm hanging up now. Don't call me again." He flipped the phone shut, shoved it back into his pocket and left the store without making a purchase.

Alex sat in her apartment and bit her lower lip in frustration. She had hoped Nikita would have been right and Birkhoff would have helped her. She couldn't tell him she was worried about Nikita, but Michael was different. She was about to set the burner down when it vibrated and chimed. She read the text message.

 _1 hr gameworks 6 & pine st_

* * *

Ryan Fletcher knew how to fire a gun with reasonable accuracy, but he wasn't a deadly assassin or sniper who could kill or hit a target at a hundred feet. He had some knowledge of explosive devices, but never disarmed a live bomb. He never boxed or brawled in a ring or bar, but knew when to duck and run. Ryan spoke Spanish fluently but could fool no one into thinking he was from anywhere but St. Louis. He was an analyst with the CIA, a bureaucratic Kingpin, a man who fought with data and could attack with facts and figures. How in the world he ended up waiting for a call from _Robocop_ eluded him.

After calling in sick, he paced the floor of his apartment nervously. He wasn't sure what the strange call meant, but if Nikita needed help, he wouldn't let her down.

When his cell phone rang, he practically jumped out of his skin. "Hello? This is Ryan Fletcher."

"Meet me in one hour at Great Falls Park. Just west of the Visitor's Center is a trail head." The voice was still electronically altered.

"Who is this? Why should I meet...?" Before Ryan could finish his sentence the line went dead.

Ryan donned his black leather jacket, he felt the weight of his gun in his pocket and left his apartment.

* * *

The electronic sounds of video games, loud music and enthusiastic voices echoed throughout the building. Large format screens on the walls flashed bright lights and images. She looked around nervously, trying to pick Birkhoff out of the crowd of teenagers and the permanently adolescent.

No one she knew ever spoke of Birkhoff. They only complained about him. His expertise with technology was unmatchable and so was his sour disposition. He seemed to be universally disliked, but highly valued by Percy, but what Alex had recently learned, is everyone in Division was expendable. She was still unsure if she could trust him, but like Nikita had said her options were limited.

Alex saw a few cute guys and caught one or two of them checking her out. If she had been a normal twenty year old, she might be interested, but she was far from normal. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, hoping to blend in with the crowd, but even dressed down, Alex stood out. Her thick brown hair fell down around her shoulders, and only a blind man wouldn't recognize how attractive she was.

From his perch above the gaming floor, Birkhoff looked down at the new agent. He thought about leaving and turning her over to Amanda. He had often rode Michael about Alex being the new beta version of Nikita and although it was said in jest, they both knew it was true. Like her predecessor she had a quality that made one take notice, and Birkhoff had noticed.

While he was contemplating his next move, she looked up and caught him looking down at her. She glared at him and he knew it was too late to beat it out of there. Birkhoff motioned her up with a look and a nod. She hurried up the stairs and he met her there.

"How the hell did you get my number?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"I saw it on Michael's phone, he dropped it and I scrolled through his numbers before giving it back to him." Alex had perfected the art of the lie even before she came to Division.

Birkhoff knew that was bullshit, but at this point it seemed irrelevant. "What do you want?"

Alex startled him by taking his arm. "Let's find someplace to talk." He was surprised by the gesture, but led her back toward the cafe where the decibels were lower.

They had almost made it when a tall, well built looking frat boy type stopped them, he looked at Alex with a cocky expression. "Seriously now, you can do better then him."

Before Alex could tell him to buzz off, Birkhoff kicked his leg out from under him and sent him sprawling on the ground. He stepped on his chest and his arms assumed a defensive stance. "Come again?" He asked with an edgy politeness.

Frat boy looked up at Birkhoff with fear and Alex looked at him with admiration. She snickered and took Birkhoff's arm again. "Don't hurt him, he's no threat to you, let's go." She pulled him away and led him toward the cafe.

* * *

Ryan left his car at the Visitor's Center parking lot. The park was sparsely populated, it was mid-week and winter had lingered on. The air was crisp, the temperatures just above freezing and piles of grimy looking snow still dotted the landscape. He followed the sign that read "Trail Head" and nervously looked around. He kept his hand in his pocket and on his gun, making sure the safety was off.

A quarter mile from the parking lot was the trail head. A sign showed a dotted line that wove it's way around the park. Ryan hunched his shoulders to the cold and stamped his feet. The only other people around looked at him peculiarly, as they passed by and made their way down the trail.

He knew an hour had gone by and once again he questioned why he was here. Who knew about him and Nikita? This wasn't Division's style. Michael had already proved this kind of cloak and dagger was unnecessary. He was on the verge of leaving when a voice seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"You going someplace?"

Ryan spun around, if he wasn't so apprehensive, he might have laughed, but instead he sputtered out his reply. "You have got to be kidding? What do you want with me?"

"I dunno, maybe we could buddy up, try and save Nikita's life and take Division down?"

He stepped back and looked at the man, his self assured stance and smirk was almost comical. "You and me, work together?"

Owen Elliot gave him a lopsided smile. "Yeah Ry, you and me, and when we spring her, Nikita too."


	9. Making Deals

Twenty years ago, when the Soviet Union dissolved, so did his role as a trained assassin with the KGB. The world's concerns had shifted from Socialistic red to environmental green and in a sense, a communist government had become obsolete and given him a pink slip. Rather than fade into obscurity, he took this opportunity as a gift to reinvent himself. Ari Tasarov's past, laid the foundation for his current role, as the leader of a Russian organization that colluded with known terrorists, criminal masterminds, and anyone on the fringes of society who could cushion their finances. Gogol's infrastructure continued to expand and on it's present course, it had become a force to reckon with.

In the last year, Nikita had become somewhat of a problem for Tasarov and her appearance generally meant trouble. She was a courageous and skilled warrior, one of the best he had ever encountered. Whether she would admit it or not, they were in the same business and had much in common. The biggest being taking Division down. It was their goals beyond destroying Percy's organization that separated them. Tasarov believed, if not Gogol, then another would come to power. He also knew quite a lot about Nikita and how she sought revenge, redemption and freedom from her past.

He walked away and looked back at the cabin. It brought him back to a different lake front property, where three years ago, he had concluded another business deal.

 _With a freshly mixed drink in his hand and a look of encouragement on his face, he sank back into the leather club chair. "We rarely approach civilians, our organization tends to deal with individuals who have been trained for this sort of work... but, as I said before, it would be a shame if that unsavory college prank came to light. It is a tragedy, that girl should not have died." He shook his head in admonishment. "However, every incident carries its consequences and this may be a financially rewarding one for you. Have you considered our offer?"_

 _The handsome man sitting across from him drank nervously from his own glass. "I've thought about it and yeah, I'm in. Being blackmailed doesn't give me much of a choice."  
_

 _Tasarov assessed his all-American good looks and smiled with approval. "Good," he said cheerfully, but a moment later his smile turned into a hard horizontal line. "However, remember this, nothing can go wrong. This deception must be one hundred percent, there can be no doubts. Do you understand?"_

 _The man looked at him with wide eyes and finished his drink in one swallow. "Yes, you made that perfectly clear. _You don't have to worry. I'd like to live the next twenty years figuring out what the following twenty should be like." He paused, before continuing on. " _I can handle being your informant, but I'm not a killer._ _ I just want to know one thing, if I said no, would you have killed me?"_

 _Tasarov had a look of satisfaction on his face. "No. We would have killed Nikita and made it appear, you were responsible."_

 _The look on Daniel Monroe's face spoke volumes. _He was a man whose options had dwindled._ _ _"You said you wouldn't hurt her… that is part of the deal, right?_ _ "_

 _The older man extended his hand. Even though he had reneged on more than one handshake, he knew it was necessary. "As you say, deal?"_

 _He nodded his head in agreement and shook Tasarov's hand. "Deal."  
_

Daniel Monroe had given Nikita a glimpse of a world filled with mundane tasks and monogamous love. She was stinging from rejection and he had comforted her and offered something Division could never give her, a normal life. Tasarov had identified her as a Division agent when one of his men saw her with Michael. With Monroe under his thumb, he began his surveillance of her. The web-designer's mission was to gain Nikita's trust, and in the process, feed Gogol information.

Tasarov had waited patiently for a useful morsel that would help him take Percy down a notch, but there was nothing but excuses. While on the verge of putting an end to the charade, Division had beat him to it. They caught wind of their love affair and had abruptly eliminated the source of their problem. Tasarov was forever grateful to Percy, it had saved him the trouble and created another force to take Division down.

"You'll find the scientist locked in the back closet behind the green door. Michael and Nikita have been restrained as well." Tasarov glowered at the Cleaner. "Tell Percy it has been interesting doing business with him."

Roan nodded politely. "Percy sends his regards. He asked me to tell you that he's enjoyed this mutually beneficial relationship, but this is a one-time transaction."

"Understood." Tasarov entered the SUV and shut the door. He knew nothing mutually beneficial existed between them. Now, as he, his driver and the two agents prepared to leave, he thought about Nikita and Michael. It didn't take the head of a covert Russian organization to figure out they had a connection and Percy was using this information in some sick and twisted game. He thought to himself, _two can play this game._

The driver started the vehicle and when he backed it up, the tires kicked up bits of gravel as it turned to leave.

Roan watched them disappear, before he entered the cabin, pulling his black suitcase of supplies behind him.

* * *

"What do you want from me?" Ryan questioned . "What could I possibly offer you?" He felt jumpy. This man was dangerous and beyond his control.

Owen looked at him earnestly. "I've been in the U.K. for the last two months, London to be exact and I'm really close to finding one of Percy's black boxes. We can use it as leverage to rescue Nikita."

Ryan looked surprised. "How do you know she needs rescuing? In fact, how do you know anything about her at all? If you've been in London, how's it possible that you can keep tabs on Division and Nikita?"

Owen looked suspiciously at a middle aged couple walking up the trail. "Not here. We'll take your car. I had to steal mine." He mumbled under his breath.

The CIA analyst gave Owen an incredulous look, but led him to his car. Owen may have looked like muscle for hire, but beyond intimidation, there was an intensity about him that made Ryan listen. Once inside, he braced his hands on the steering wheel. "I'll ask you again. What is it you want from me? How do you know Nikita's in danger?"

Owen frowned, he could not have predicted being here. Asking someone like Fletcher for help would have been unthinkable, but the unthinkable had become his past. "I have no friends and no one but Nikita as an ally. You might as well admit it too, you're in the same leaky boat."

The forlorn look on the blacklisted agent's face was sincere and Ryan knew, what he said was true. "You're right, I'm an inch from having nothing to loose, but I want to know where your information is coming from? How do you know it's credible?"

Owen gave him a smug look, his past with Division had taught him many things and connected him to many people. "Nikita's not the only game in town that knows how to keep tabs on Division and Percy. I got my own sources and believe me, they are reliable, and there's a problem."

Ryan started the car, he let it idle for a moment before putting it into reverse. "You still haven't told me what it is you think I can do."

"Come on, you got the brains, I got the beauty." Owen joked. "It's pretty simple, you know something that I need to know. Who exactly, is Nikita's mole?"

* * *

"Dude, if Division gets wind of this, you might as well save Percy or Amanda the trouble of canceling you and just do it yourself." Birkhoff snarled. They sat at a cafe table in the massive video arcade, each of them eying the other, warily.

"I know, but I thought you might… I mean, I didn't have anyone else to talk to and I thought you might know what's going to happen to Michael."

Birkhoff looked at Alex curiously. From the beginning, she wasn't like any of the other recruits. She wasn't afraid, or maybe she knew when to be afraid. "You're really worried about Michael?"

Alex bit her lower lip and nodded. "Michael's been the only person in Division that's looked out for me. If something happens to him, I got no one. I get the feeling he's the only sane one in this insane organization." She used her unease for Michael to mask her real concern for Nikita. She still carried the burner in her back pocket and prayed she'd get a reassuring phone call, but her young intuition told her to do something before it was too late.

Birkhoff looked at her suspiciously. His tenure within the walls of Division had taught him to trust no one. He knew Percy, Amanda, and the men and women who ran Oversight only cared about themselves. As long as he was controlled everything was fine. Like Alex had said, Michael was the only one who had ever been straight with him. If it was possible to have a friend within Division, he was one.

He looked at Alex, feeling out of his element because this wasn't something he was used to. For one thing, she was hot and he was a tech nerd who needed a haircut. A botched robbery and cold blooded killing had brought her to Division. The only thing he had ever stolen was data, and the only murder he had committed was on a series of computer servers for the DoD. Very few reached out to him for help or guidance. Once upon a time it had been Nikita who had made him feel worthy of friendship. This was different, but felt the same.

He drummed his fingers on the cafe table. "What do you want to know?"

"The mission we were on, the one with the Scientist and codes, we were ambushed and Michael was hurt and they took him away. I want to know if he's alive and if there's someway to help him." Alex's large brown eyes were pools of sincerity. "Is Percy going to leave him there to be killed?"

This was a deciding moment for Birkhoff. He could walk away from her and forget this ever happened or he could turn her over to Amanda and let the Inquisitor deal with it. He surprised himself by digging deep into himself and going with door number three. He would take a chance and help her. He knew he was playing with fire, but figured Percy could only cancel him once if he found out about this, and his other dealings.

"All right, but listen up, if you double cross me I'll feed you bit by bit to that Ice Bitch in heels. You get me?"

Behind the harsh words and bravado, Alex saw they had something in common, survival. She reached out and took his hand, it was strangely intimate. She looked him straight in the eye. "I get you."


	10. Work to Do

He walked quietly through the cabin, listening for sounds that might compromise the work ahead of him. Satisfied, that no one but the three prisoners were still inside, Roan set about his business.

The first thing he did was don a pair of thick latex gloves. The next, was to go to the bathroom and pull down the plastic shower curtain. The tub wasn't as deep as he would have liked but it would do. He wadded up the plastic curtain and walked out leaving his supplies behind him.

In the back of the cabin, he found the green door and dropped the shower curtain on the floor. He removed his .44 Automag from it's holster, and rapped on the door.

A frightened voice came from inside the closet. "Whose there? Let me out, I haven't done anything except what I was asked to do. Who are you?"

Roan pointed his gun at the voice and pulled the trigger and the wooden door splintered with the explosion. He gingerly opened the closet door and the Scientist fell forward onto the floor. The Cleaner prodded him with the toe of his shoe to make sure he was dead before he unwrapped the shower curtain and pulled the body onto it. Dragging him toward the bathroom, he deposited the body in the tub. With a pair of extra large scissors, taken from his suitcase, he cut away the Scientists clothes. These he would burn later. Next he ran the water and let the spray from the shower wash the blood down the drain. In the meantime, he extracted his rotary saw. Roan knew, there was still a substantial amount of work ahead of him.

* * *

The sound of gun fire had startled her out of the stupor she had suffered at the hands of the Russians. Nikita listened intently for other signs of things to come. The handcuffs left angry red marks around her wrists and her arms ached from the relentless pressure on them. Although she had told herself to relax and to work through the pain, what really hurt was knowing Michael was in the other room and in harms way. She knew, he was beyond angry with her, for stopping him from killing Kasim Tariq. She felt no remorse for saving Michael's life, but knowing he might never forgive her was where the real sacrifice lay.

As she strained to glean anything useful from the other side of the door her thoughts drifted to the past.

 _"Did you pick me for the mission, or did Amanda?" Nikita tried to sound nonchalant, but her curiosity got the best of her._

 _"I suggested you, and Amanda agreed, Boyer won't be able to resist you." His reply was serious and matter of fact, as he pulled up to the curb in the expensive Jaguar. The valet parking attendants opened the doors for them and Nikita emerged looking confident and radiant. Michael walked toward her and she took his arm._

 _"You're sure about the window?" She asked. They made a striking pair, Michael, elegantly dressed in an expensive designer suit and Nikita, _her jade colored beaded dress caught the light, as he escorted her into the mansion.__

 _"I need about thirty minutes, keep Boyer busy, when I'm done, I'll come and find you. There he is now." She knew what to do, as Boyer, a middle aged billionaire who dabbled in black market nerve toxins approached them. Boyer was handsome, physically fit with a full head of salt and pepper hair, but what Nikita noticed, was his arrogance and the cruel look in his eyes.  
_

 _"Hello Michael, nice to see you again. Who is this exquisite creature?" Boyer extended his hand to Nikita and he brazenly undressed her as he scanned her from head to toe.  
_

 _"My girlfriend, Nikita. Nikita, this is Wynn Boyer, our host." Michael was gracious, professional and irritated with Boyer's flagrant behavior and with himself, for caring._

 _Boyer took Nikita's hand and ran his thumb over the back of it. He ignored Michael and gave her challenging look, which she returned. "Welcome, is there anything I can get you?"_

 _"She smiled suggestively. "I'd love a tour of the house, it's beautiful." She gave Michael a knowing look. "Sweetheart, you won't miss me, will you?"_

 _Michael rolled his eyes at her with ambivalence. "Go right ahead." He nodded at her dismissively and addressed Boyer. "Forgive me, while I make a call." Boyer smirked at him and Michael watched him lead her away, a knot formed in his stomach._

 _Nikita followed him through the house and up the stairs. He allowed Boyer to take her hand and felt slightly revolted when he pulled her near him. "I am a man of much wealth and when I see something I want, I usually get it. Take this property, it belonged to the Sultan of Brunei back in the day, I knew I had to have it the moment I laid eyes on it." He looked at her and pulled her into a room and closed the door quickly behind him._

 _She knew where this was going and she wasn't happy about it. Nikita had hoped for more flirtatious banter, a little song and dance that would use up the time, instead, she had to play this game of seduction. "A man who gets what he wants? I like that."_

 _Boyer chuckled. "I'm surprised Michael let go of you without a fight."_

 _Nikita shrugged. "We're not really that close, in fact I had to beg him to bring me here. I hoped for an introduction."_

 _Boyer raised his eyebrows and stepped forward pressing her against the wall. "Consider yourself introduced."_

 _Her training taught her to remove her personal feelings from the situation, but she wasn't sure she could go through with this, so she stalled. "How about a drink, champagne would be lovely." She tried to escape from his possessive stance.  
_

 _The billionaire arms dealer narrowed his eyes at her. Without anymore provocation he slapped her across the face so hard it caused her to stumble against the closed door. "Don't toy with me." He growled. "Don't test my patience."_

 _She tried to stay in character, cowering with fear, but was really tempted to break his arm. "Please don't hurt me." she whispered._

 _"Then don't give me any attitude, I hate women with attitude." He stepped forward again and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her toward the bed in the center of the room. He forced her down on her back and ran his hand under her dress and up her thigh._

 _Nikita could hear Amanda's voice in her head. "Our work is important, we have a job to do. Always remember, you're serving your country."_

 _She grit her teeth, feeling his hands roam across her body. She mentally calculated how much time had past, surely thirty minutes had gone by. When she felt his hands pulling on her panties, Nikita could take no more. He had her pinned awkwardly, but she started to fight back. Her fist lashed out and hit the side of his face. He grunted and with a venomous look, he drew his hand back to strike her._

 _Out of nowhere, a large hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him off of Nikita. Boyer hit the floor and Michael pulled out his gun and pointed it at him. "If you even blink, I swear, I'll blow your head off." He cocked the gun when he saw Nikita, her dress torn and a bruise already forming on her face._

 _She rushed toward him and reached for the gun in his hand. "Michael, I'm okay. Let's go. Now."_

 _Boyer began to scramble to his feet and Michael pistol whipped him and he fell into a heap._

 _Michael looked at her sorrowfully and Nikita looked back at him with concern. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered "I'm sorry."_

 _She took his arm and they left the mansion.  
_

* * *

From his own bedroom prison, Michael also heard the shot. Through his pain and worry, he wondered what had happened to Nikita? Was she still alive? What had they done to her? He tried to free himself from his bounds, but it was no use.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the door opened and Roan walked in.

"Michael. I'm here to help you. Lay still, you're injured." Roan used his knife to release him and helped him roll onto his back.

The Cleaner took some gauze soaked in antiseptic from a medical kit and dabbed it on Michael's head wound. He reached into his pocket and took out a syringe. "This is just what the doctor ordered."


	11. The Play Begins

Ryan Fletcher knew too much to walk away. In the course of his work as a CIA Analyst, he had uncovered more than a handful of irreconcilable facts that either read like fiction or vice verse. They occurred on both domestic and foreign soil, paper trails ended, documents disappeared and budget audits were consistently, inconsistent. By all means and purposes, all off it was off the books. The DoJ, the NSA, and the CIA always had a hand in concealing information, but the mother load of secrecy was buried beneath layers of self righteous deceit known as Division. He had dug up enough to send Senators, Congressmen and Generals scrambling for cover and Ryan Fletcher's name had become synonymous with trouble. After the plot to frame him as an assassin failed, his high profile likely saved him from becoming the victim of some tragic accident or another traitorous act. Ryan knew he was on the grim reaper's path and consorting with Owen Elliot, was like nailing his coffin lid shut. The only person who could help him was Nikita and according to his unwelcome accomplice, she was in danger.

Giving up Nikita's mole seemed almost like treason. When Owen had demanded a name, he had to decide right then and there if he could deal with the consequences of telling him. Understanding the man behind the threatening looks helped him decide.

"Her name is Alex, she's around nineteen or twenty and is a newly promoted agent. According to Nikita, Division killed her parents and she's seeking revenge. I don't know her, but if Nikita was willing to save her life, than she must be worth it."

Owen listened to him quietly. "We might have to enlist her help. Two on the inside is better than one."

The two men had driven to the outskirts of Washington, DC. and were headed north, but Ryan wasn't sure of their final destination. "I told you what you want to know, now it's your turn. Who do you have on the inside? How do you know they can be trusted?"

The former Guardian gave him a dark look. "Are you really such a boy scout that you still believe in trust? My person on the inside is only as good as the fear I put into them. That may not be what you want to hear, but it's the truth."

He couldn't help but wonder how many men, women, even children Owen had killed, and thinking about how he had killed them made Ryan inwardly shudder. "I've told you what I know, what more could you want from me?"

Owen gave him a smug smile. "A charter flight, an AK-47, a wireless computer with a secure interface and lots of black coffee."

* * *

Birkhoff settled himself in front of his computer in Operations. With the exception of the cursor winking back at him, the console was dark. He plucked a red vine from the canister on top of his work station and parked it between his teeth before typing in a string of code. A satellite view of upstate New York appeared with the distinctive red marker of an agent's tracker. Next to it was a mug shot of Michael along with his personnel stats.

He zeroed in on the red diamond as it blinked and rotated on the half second. This was a good sign, it meant he was still alive. Peering over his shoulder and chewing on the red licorice twist, he made sure none of his tech subordinates were watching. He switched over to the DoD satellite and entered a set of coordinates. From his vantage point in Operations, he could see approximately a half a mile around the lake front property. He spotted the transport van that Michael's team had used. It was on the side of the road disguised as a county utility vehicle. An unmarked car was parked near the cabin and a motorcycle was partially hidden in the brush. Experience told him, the Ducati was the preferred mode of transport for a rogue agent who had resurfaced to enlist his help, by kidnapping and beating him. Nikita had popped up during missions, specifically Michael's missions and her presence always meant unpleasant business.

When the door opened into the command center, he immediately minimized the computer screen and a pattern of binary code replaced it.

Amanda came in and didn't even try to pretend to be pleasant. Her aura held enough malice to weigh any known criminal down. "Hello Birkhoff, did you have a nice day off?" Amanda looked like she might pounce on him at anytime.

"It was uneventful, except for running into Michael's numero uno, Alex." Birkhoff mumbled.

Amanda eyes brightened with interest and she pursed her lips. "Really? Where? What was she up to?"

He was a better actor than anyone in Division gave him credit for. "At the video arcade, picking up guys, I guess. But once she spotted me, that girl was all over me."

Amanda narrowed her eyes with amusement. "You don't say."

An insulted look crossed his face. "If you really want to know, she seemed genuinely worried about Michael. She wanted to know if he was going to come out of this current mission unscathed." Birkhoff gave Amanda a pointed look. "It's a valid question."

Amanda conveyed a lot of information with her cynical facial expression and equally uninformative comments. "I'm sure he'll come out of this better than when he went in. We're dealing with it." She smiled coyly and walked out of Operations.

Birkhoff followed her with his eyes and watched her disappear behind the closed door. He switched back to his satellite feed and zoomed in on the license plate number of the unknown vehicle and ran it through his extensive collection of databases. A jolt of concern struck him when a match came up. The plates belonged to Division and it was assigned to Roan. _Just great_ he thought to himself. Michael was down, Nikita was messing with them and the only reason to send Roan in, meant dead, or soon to be dead. He closed out of the screen and looked around the room.

"Everyone out! I need the room. Lock your screens and get out! Now!" The group of tech agents looked startled, but they did as they were told. Birkhoff kept his value known by reminding others he was handling confidential and top secret information. Once Operations was cleared, he opened up a shell program he had squirreled away in back of the firewall. It was much like the one Nikita had used to make contact with her mole.

 _Room secured._ Birkhoff typed in. He waited for a reply and watched the second hand on his watch tick by. He was ready to close the program when a string of words appeared.

 _You have the intel?_

 _Highway 87, off of copeland rd. M alive, nikita on site. roan sent in._

 _Why roan?_

 _Not sure._

 _Find out._

The cursor stopped blinking and _user logged off_ appeared.

Birkhoff sighed to himself. Nothing was easy in his life. He should have gone to Percy the minute he was contacted, but in a moment he should have been proud of, he decided to show some balls and think for himself. Now he was in too deep and Owen Elliot had him by those balls, and they both knew it.

He took his innocuous phone out of his pocket and sent Alex a text.

 _Others lookin for M too. Nikita is there and P sent Roan in._

From her apartment in the City, Alex looked at her burner and the message from Birkhoff. With a very worried expression she bit her bottom lip and texted him back.

 _Nikita n Roan can't be good. Can we do anything?_

Birkhoff looked at his phone _,_ sometimes there was only one thing to do. It was time to man up _.  
_

 _I got an idea._

He closed his phone and began searching for Roan's current mission profile. _  
_

* * *

"Just try and relax. The injection I gave you should help with the pain." Roan helped Michael up, guiding him toward the edge of the bed and urging him to sit.

He took a small pen light and flashed it in Michael's eyes, checking his pupils, which had turned into large black orbs. When he waved his hand in front of his face, he didn't flinch, indicating the drug was taking effect. Roan thought back on his discussion with Percy.

 _"This designer drug hasn't been widely tested, but the preliminary results have shown it to be quite effective in temporarily affecting a person's neurochemistry. It changes a person's mood, cognition, perception and behavior." Percy sounded like a marketing exec announcing a new product.  
_

 _"Unlike Amanda's current favorite drug, Ibogaine, this is totally synthetic and it has no truth serum properties. What sets this drug apart is how it interacts with the power of suggestion. We can implant false memories in the subjects subconscious, virtually rewriting their mental journal. It's a new generation of brainwashing." He smiled arrogantly.  
_

 _"Amanda will help you with the script. They'll be jumping off points, as long as you focus on the negative, you should have no problems."_

The Cleaner was always up for a challenge and this one was rather unique. He had nothing against Michael, but understood this was necessary. The health of Division depended on it.

"Here drink this." Roan handed him a bottle of water. "You're lucky, the vest and the shooter's bad aim saved your life.

The drug had begun to course through Michael's system and the pain that had consumed him began to subside. He still felt like he was fighting his way out of a cloud. "What happened to my team?"

Roan felt like he was looking at a blank slate waiting to be scrawled on. "It was Nikita. She ambushed and killed your agents."

Amanda instructed Roan to pace himself, Michael needed to absorb and process the information slowly. He recited one of the prompts that she had formulated. "You can't trust her, she only cares about herself. She's dangerous and is a liar. She wants Percy and Amanda dead, and when they are, you'll be next."

Michael felt himself immersed in confusion, Nikita had ambushed them? "Wait! The Scientist.. the codes? What happened to the target?"

"He's dead. Nikita killed him. She killed the scientist." Roan said solemnly.

The pounding in his head had returned, but between the relentless beats, her voice broke through.

 _"Two down, they're not going anywhere. I'm told more are coming. If you hurt the target, all hell will break loose."_

Roan could see he felt conflicted, he was fighting to make sense of what had happened. He decided Michael's mental state needed more prodding. "There is something else I think you should know. Percy found out Nikita's been working with Kasim Tariq. That's why she had you stopped at the airport, it was to save Kasim's life."

Michael looked at him in disbelief. "She's working with Kasim? I didn't know..." He closed his eyes against the confusion he felt and could hear her voice in his head.

 _"Michael don't do this! You don't get to say your good byes yet. You have something to live for, you have me."_

Michael looked at Roan suspiciously. "What the hell are you talking about? How do you know these things?"

He hadn't expected this much resistance. "Take it easy. You have a serious head injury." He urged him to lie down. "Just give me a minute, I'll be right back."

The Cleaner left the room and shut the door behind him. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed a key for speed dial.

It rang twice and Amanda answered. "Status?"

"Is the line secure?" Roan rarely broke protocol.

"Yes, what is it?" Amanda answered impatiently.

"We have a problem. He's fighting the drug, the results seem to be a failure. Should I increase the dosage?"

There was silence for a few seconds before Amanda responded. "Yes, but in small increments. We don't want to cause permanent brain damage."

Roan snapped his phone shut and returned to his patient in the next room.

* * *

The knock on her apartment door surprised her. Alex blinked hard a few times and put on her game face before answering it.

"Birkhoff? What are you doing here?" She wasn't expecting to find him at her door.

He ran his hand through his hair and looked at her sideways. "Can I come in?"

Alex stepped aside and he walked by her. He swept her apartment and his eyes settled on Nathan, sitting on her couch with a drink in his hand. He knew this was the guy that Amanda was using to torture her with. He knew the drill, he'd been through it himself.

Nathan stood and towered over Birkhoff. He looked slightly perplexed, but held out his hand. "Nathan." He said with a friendly smile.

Birkhoff suddenly felt like he was back in high school, ready to become the brunt of some jock's joke. He shook his hand limply.

Alex looked unsure of herself, the last time someone from Division had shown up at her apartment, it was Michael and he painted himself as a pimp for the new world. "This is Birkhoff, he and I work together."

Nathan looked at him with amusement. "Nice to meet you."

Division's chief technology officer could only nod. After an awkward moment passed he looked at Alex. "This looks like a bad time to talk shop. I should have called." He headed for the door, but Alex stopped him.

"Don't go, it's okay. Nathan was just leaving." She gave her unofficial boyfriend an apologetic look. "Birkhoff and I have to plan a strategy for work. I'll see you later."

Nathan looked slightly offended at being dismissed, but he set his drink down on the coffee table and Alex walked him to the door.

He hovered over her. "You work with this geek?"

His attitude more than surprised her and she found herself defending him. "Yeah I do, and he's totally brilliant."

Nathan left, but not before marking her with the alpha male gesture of an unexpected and unnecessary kiss. His reward was the door being shut in his face.

She turned back to Birkhoff who stood in the middle of the room uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. He's really a nice guy, I think you may have made him a little jealous." Her eyes sparkled back at him.

Birkhoff shrugged. "You can stop right there. Amanda's got my self esteem issues wrapped up and tied with a bow. It is what it is and I doubt it's that."

She felt genuinely sorry for making him feel unwelcome. "Well, thanks for not taking him down like the guy at Gameworks."

He smirked at her. "It works better with an audience. If I'd been alone, the opportunity wouldn't have come up."

She smiled back at him, but her elevated mood dropped a few stories when she thought about Nikita. "You have some information?"

Birkhoff tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. "I do, but it's not good."

Alex knew this was one of those fights worth picking. "Okay, bring it on."

"I think this whole thing was a set up. The scientist and the codes were the cover for what's really going down. They have Michael and Nikita and Roan's been sent in with some new generation of mind altering drugs. He's trying to get Michael to kill Nikita."

"What?" Alex furrowed her brow in distress. "Can they do that?"

"If you knew Michael and Nikita like I know them, you would think that nothing could affect the chemistry between them. But Percy's fighting chemistry with chemistry. What we need is some help."

Alex looked worried. "Who can we find to help us."

Birkhoff smirked, "I know who and it's gonna be epic."

* * *

Owen looked pleased. "Your pretty good at this stuff."

Ryan looked less than pleased. "What? You mean procuring a private plane by using my CIA credentials?" He thought about the fall out from this stunt and realized, he was sealing his own fate.

"Don't look so glum, you might be rescuing the one person who can actually save our butts and make an honest woman out of the government." He looked a little unsure of what he just said. "You know what I mean."

The two men drove north of Washington, D.C. where they went to a private charter company that Ryan knew had ties to illegal drug smuggling. It didn't take much to convince the pilot that they were on the same side when it came to using his plane legally. He watched the news and knew who Fletcher was and this seemed like an interesting opportunity to make in roads with the CIA. The pilot dropped them at a private airstrip and kindly offered him a car in exchange for Ryan's assurances of future help and the pilot's assurance, of an agonizing death, if this came back to haunt him.

They drove to the nearest town, which consisted of a post office convenience store, gas station, gun shop and three taverns. Owen logged on to the computer Ryan had brought along. He opened the shell program into Division.

On the other end Birkhoff answered, he was at Alex's apartment on her computer. _Call me._ The chat session closed out and a moment later his phone rang. Birkhoff put it on speaker phone.

"You better not be playing me." Owen wasn't kidding and Birkhoff knew it.

"Percy and Amanda have sent Roan in to extract Michael. But here's the rub, Nikita's there and they have some scheme to have Michael kill her."

Even Owen knew that wasn't happening. "He'll never do it."

"Roan's got some kind of drug that makes mush out of reality. We need... I need to get back to Division and see what more I can dig up." Birkhoff damned himself for the slip.

Owen caught it. "We? Who is we? If you don't wanna come clean with me, just say so. I'll be happy to find you when you least expect it. By the way, I have Ryan Fletcher here running interference."

Ryan looked like someone had reached down his throat and pulled a lung out. "What are you doing? You're telling the head of Division's I.T. that I'm in on this with you?"

Owen grinned. "Relax, Birkhoff's not going to do anything. We have an agreement. Right?"

"Fletcher? You got the CIA involved in this. This is gonna seriously implode."

Alex looked startled. First Owen and now Ryan? She knew Nikita trusted Ryan, but Owen Elliot was another story.

The ex-Guardian came back on the line. "You need some help on your end, Fletcher tells me that there's a girl in Division named Alex. She's Nikita's mole. Sounds like we're going to be good buddies by the time this is all over."

Birkhoff stared at Alex in disbelief and Alex stared back in horror.


	12. Flinch

Shackled to the bed in the other bedroom, Nikita had long given up trying to free herself. Her anger had subsided and in it's place was concern, as much for Michael as for herself, and she focused her energy on staying alive.

Inside of her head, a video loop played over and over again. Nikita closed her eyes and watched the recent events that led her here. Division's mission, to extract the Scientist before a set of codes could be compromised had failed miserably. Sending a team in, only to have them be ambushed, was highly suspicious. As she pieced together the circumstances, this was more than bad luck, it was a calculated move by Percy and Amanda. They had to know what was going down and it was likely they orchestrated the set up.

The Russians weren't Mafia or foreign radicals, she recognized Gogol's signature and Ari Tasarov's penmanship. There was something going on here that didn't make sense. Here were two clandestine organizations, sworn enemies by all accounts, but they appeared to be working together. There had to be a reason, and knowing why might save her life.

Would Ryan Fletcher put the pieces together to find her? Not likely, Ryan had integrity, but he wasn't a field agent and she would never count on him to rescue her. Only someone familiar with Division would connect the dots and see that something was amiss. Alex was the only person Nikita could count on. Would she contact Birkhoff? Would he help her or turn her in? Behind his sullen and rebellious nature, she knew Birkhoff had a heart and he respected Michael. She remembered the teamwork they once shared and prayed, he would too.

 _"Michael, we got two hostiles in the west stairway." Birkhoff warned from his station in Operations.  
_

 _"Copy that. I've got it." Michael replied. He was on site at the hotel.  
_

 _"Nerd, any changes with how many in the room?" Nikita's tone was confident. She walked the hotel hallway, dressed in a dark business suit, with her hair pulled back into a twist and a black brief case in one hand._

 _Birkhoff toggled between screens. "Thermal imaging shows three bodies in the room, two are smaller, possibly female."_

 _Michael's voice came over the Coms. "Nikita, the west stairway is cleared. Use the door that's opposite the ice machine to exit."_

" _Copy that. Hey Nerd, are my eyes working?" She adjusted the pendant that sat high on her neck._

" _Crystal clear. It's like watching an episode of Cops. Try not to jiggle." Birkhoff quipped._

 _Nikita stood in front of the hotel room door."Okay, let's rock'n roll...and I don't jiggle." She muttered before_ knocking.

" _Who is it?" A masculine voice called out._

" _My name is Nikita. I represent Percy." She answered confidently. The ten seconds it took for the door to open seemed an eternity._

 _Marco Corelli stood in the doorway looking at Percy's envoy suspiciously. His shirt was unbuttoned, and by his tousled appearance it was obvious she had interrupted an unsavory moment. His eyes looked to the brief case she held at her side. "Is it all there?"_

 _She nodded. "Yes, every cent." Corelli stepped aside and she walked into the suite._

 _Birkhoff whispered into the Com units. "Nikita, watch the women, they aren't just bimbos."_

 _Two women climbed off the bed and stood in front of it. One of them had long black hair and piercing blue eyes, she held herself like a warrior. The other had ebony skin and a pouting expression. Birkhoff pegged her as Akasha the Queen of the Damned. Clad only in their underwear, there was no doubt they did double duty as bodyguards._

" _Mike, too bad you can't see what I'm seeing." Birkhoff said smugly. "I got dibs on Akasha."  
_

" _Shut up." Michael growled._

" _You have the merchandise?" Nikita asked smoothly. She relinquished the brief case to Corelli._

 _He set it on the table and popped the top open. It was packed with neat stacks of one hundred dollar bills. He practically licked his lips at the sight._

 _Birkhoff came on the Com muttering. "Michael, heads up, somethings not right."_

"Copy that." _He replied.  
_

 _Nikita watched the target and the two women carefully. "Mr. Corelli, the merchandise please." She demanded._

 _Birkhoff's voice cut through their Com units. "Nikki! Knife! Duck!"_

 _She bent her knees and threw herself to one side, the knife missed her by an inch. She popped up and pulled out the gun that was parked in the small of her back, and fired twice._

 _Xena was the knife thrower and she screamed when her knee cap shattered. The other shot hit Akasha in the shoulder and the impact blew the gun in her hand away._

" _You want to play dirty?" Nikita threatened them. "I can do that." She aimed her gun at Corelli's groin. "Now give me the merchandise!"_

 _Corelli kept his hands up and trembled. "Easy does it. It's in the top drawer." He nodded to the dresser._

" _Get it." She held her gun on him, while Xena and Akasha held their wounds._

 _He edged his way over to the dresser. Corelli opened the drawer and reached in and pulled out a small metal box, he stared at the gun that was next to it. In the split second it took for him to grab it and turn to shoot at her, Nikita fired and he went down._

" _There's someone else in the room!" Birkhoff called out over the Com._

 _Nikita's back was to the bathroom door, when a man emerged, a gun pointed at her. Before she could react to Birkhoff's warning, a bullet hit him directly in the forehead and with an astonished look on his face, he crumpled to the ground. She turned around to see Michael behind her._

" _You two crazy kids okay?" Birkhoff called out nervously over the Com. "It's time to get the hell out of Dodge, NOW!  
_

 _She and Michael looked at each other for a brief moment before she picked up the small metal box. He reached for her hand and they quickly headed to the west stairway to make their exit._

Division taught all new recruits to be wary of friendship. It was a weakness and people you cared for would be at risk. This was a heartbreaking truth she had learned with Daniel.

It was dangerous to put all her hopes on one long shot, she couldn't count on him like she couldn't count on Michael, or could she? She remembered the look on Michael's face when he had told her to leave in the alley, and the time in Hong Kong when he saved her life. She had no guarantees that Birkhoff would come through, but at the moment, she had little choice. If she was to get out of this alive, a long shot would have to do.

She flinched when the sound of footsteps came her way.

* * *

When he opened the door to the back bedroom, Roan found Michael where he left him, sprawled out on the bed, drugged and confused. His body was racked with tremors and his coloring matched the faded gray sheer hanging over the window. Michael had retreated into himself and a battle raged inside of him. Roan's words and the drug wreaked havoc with his feelings. He had lived for years with denial as his constant companion, and because of this, his subconscious was encased in fortress of contradictions.

Nikita killed his team and the Scientist.

She was his enemy and could never be trusted.

She was self-serving and after using him, she would kill him.

She had prevented him from avenging his family's death because she collaborated with Kasim.

Roan had peppered him with these facts and it angered him to know of her betrayal. Yet, there was still something inside of him that fought these beliefs. He could clearly see and hear her say the words.

" _I will do anything to help you get Kasim!"_

The light from the hallway illuminated the room enough for Roan to take a clean syringe and vial from his pocket and draw another 2 cc's of the drug.

"Your blood pressures soaring, this will help bring it down." Roan lied before stabbing him in the arm and depressing the plunger. He waited a moment and pulled him up into a sitting position and jostled him slightly.

"Michael, we have to be careful. Nikita's made it her mission to kill us. Here, take this, you'll need it." He handed him a .38 special. "Shoot to kill, if you don't, you'll die."

His head pounded in sync with his heart beat and Roan's voice sounded distant. He took the gun and held it. "Where is she?"

Roan felt a small sense of relief, the drug must be working. "She's here, somewhere in the house, we have to be careful. Stay here."

He stood and went to the door, it was time to prepare Nikita as well.


	13. Rambo & Chances

Two weeks ago, in the early hours of the morning, Owen Elliot lay on his cot inside a condemned building, in the west end of London. He suffered from another sleepless night, contemplating on how a Guardian becomes a fugitive. Only a few months before, he had been overseeing and protecting one of Percy's precious black boxes. He understood his role and purpose, and he knew who he was. He was a Division agent, a former cleaner, handpicked by Percy to protect a cache of Government secrets, at any cost.

But something unexpected happened to him, he met an innocent, a sweet girl named Emily Robinson. It happened slowly, first it was an awkward hello and the next time he carried a heavy bag of groceries for her. Then one day, she had missed a medical appointment and he found her passed out in the hall way. He did the right thing and helped her, and that one caring gesture caused his life to veer far off course. This had nothing to do with power or blackmail. She had given him back his humanity and shown him the bittersweet realities of love. He had a new mandate in his life and it had nothing to do with a black box.

After she was killed, he was like a fly trapped on a windowsill, pressed against the glass and frantically fighting to escape the invisible barrier that kept him prisoner. His life was about regret and sorrow, but on that early morning in London, it shifted to redemption and revenge.

Owen was no longer Percy's servant and with the return of his free will, he began to understand that life lost most of its meaning without love. When Nikita appeared, he hated her for interfering, but it became clear to him that her motives were never to harm either of them. He understood that he and Emily would never have escaped Division. He should have never fallen in love.

When he got Birkhoff's tip about nuclear warhead codes being compromised, he knew Nikita would involve herself. She had someone in the inside feeding her intel and she was relentless when it came to standing in Percy's way. Owen knew it was time to pay them a visit.

As they drove to the lakeside cabin, he looked over at Ryan Fletcher with more than a hint of disbelief. This bureaucrat was his back up? Nothing in his life made sense anymore. They expected to find a Scientist held hostage for information, Michael wounded, and Nikita trying to make amends. He could help her, she needed him and he needed her.

Ryan knew he was being sized up, there was no way he could face off with a trained killer like Owen Elliot and he wondered why he was in this car. Yet, he knew they had one thing in common, Nikita. She seemed to be a common denominator in a lot of people's life.

The two men had left the roadside community and were headed toward the Scientist's property. Owen had armed himself with military issue smoke bombs, hand grenades, and an automatic assault weapon. Ryan felt woefully inadequate with only his CIA standard revolver, and was more than a little wary of Owen and his arsenal of toys.

"You can't go in there like Rambo, you'll get them all killed." Ryan said, hoping he would listen to reason. "If you want to help Nikita, we have to go in quiet."

Owen looked at him, a confused and almost amused expression on his face. "That's why you're here. You do the quiet part and I'll do the Rambo part.

* * *

Birkhoff paced the length of Alex's apartment, his hands twitching at his side. "For the love of God! Alex, what have you gotten us into? We are both dead if Percy or Amanda finds out about this."

Alex stepped out of his way. "They won't. We won't let them."

"How's that going to happen? Are you sure the apartment isn't bugged?" He looked around nervously.

"Don't worry, I sweep it every time I come in. Nikita showed me how." She went to her kitchen drawer and pulled out a hand held scanner.

Birkhoff looked slightly green. His own internal circuitry was on overload. "Okay, so what is this really about? What are you? Certifiably crazy? You and Nikita, you're never going to get away with this. No one gets away."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him. "Nikita did. She got away. She chose to come back because she knows it's the right thing to do. I joined her fight because she saved me, and… because Division killed my parents."

Birkhoff looked at her with disbelieving eyes. How could Alex, barely out of her teens have gotten this far? The absurdity of the situation turned to admiration when he thought about her courage, but that quickly changed to paranoia.

"Does Michael know?" His head was spinning. First Owen Elliot and now Alex. Christ, what was he going to do?

"Hell no! She never wanted to test him, she knew his loyalties would be with Division."

The tech guru gave her an angry look. "She tell you to come to me?"

Alex looked at him wistfully. "Birkhoff, Nikita said you might help me because it was Michael."

He sat down on her couch and hung his head in his hands. "Let me think."

What few people knew is that Michael had saved Birkhoff's life. When he was a new recruit, Percy didn't like the radical anarchist, he thought Birkhoff was unpatriotic, someone who rebelled against the wrong side and his slovenly appearance turned him off. It was Michael who convinced Percy that he had value. He reasoned with him and the fact that Division's fearless leader had listened, was an indication of the things to come for Michael.

 _"Listen to me, that stunt you pulled, hacking into the DoD sealed your fate. You could have chosen to stay in prison for the next twenty years, but you didn't, you chose Division. Now that you know about us, you'll only leave in a body bag. If you learn to play by the rules, you'll find out where you fit in, and Birkhoff, serving your country is very real." Michael's intensity wasn't lost on him, and he saw he had no ulterior motives._

 _He remembered what it felt like to be picked up by the Feds and hauled away. He remembered the holding cell he was confined to, the court appointed attorney, the smell of defeat, and most of all, of being very alone. He looked at Michael, he was everything that Birkhoff wasn't, but he sensed he was honest and sincere._

 _"It looks like you're right, this is a second chance, maybe my only chance."_

Birkhoff looked up and then over at Alex. "If we're going to help Michael, we have to go back to Division and find out what Percy and Roan are up to." He squinted at her. "Now tell me what you know about this mission and Nikita."


	14. Blue Color of Death

"Hmm, this is my favorite, Veuve Clicquot. How did you know?" Amanda smiled as Percy handed her a flute of champagne. They touched rims and the crystal glasses made a tinkling sound.

Percy chuckled. "Your observational skills have rubbed off on all of us."

She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked at the compliment. "When do you expect to hear from Roan?"

He finished his glass in one swallow. "Soon. He takes particular pride in reporting on his accomplishments."

"This is an unusual role for him. I'm not sure he has mastered the art of manipulation." She sipped from her glass.

Percy shrugged. "The drug will make up for any shortcomings. More champagne?" He picked up the bottle and poured himself another glass and proceeded to empty it.

Division's leader was ruthless, cool and unaffected. He rarely felt anxious about the decisions he made, however, this was Michael and Nikita. Sending in his best cleaner to drug, exploit and manipulate his second into killing the rogue agent was brilliant, but until it was done, he would worry.

The intercom on his desk buzzed. Percy gave up an annoyed look. "Birkhoff, what is it? I told you, I didn't want to be disturbed."

"Sorry boss, but I thought you should know, I've even triple checked this, and... and, Michael's tracker show's he's dead." Birkhoff's voice cracked ever so slightly at the end of the statement.

The look of confusion and alarm on Amanda's face was real.

"What? Get Roan on the line with me, NOW!" Percy shouted into the intercom.

Birkhoff tensed at the sound of his voice. "I'm on it!" He brought up Division's cell phone server and deactivated Roan's dedicated line. As an after thought, he deactivated three others. He had already changed the appearance of Michael's tracker to the distinctive blue color of death, unless someone had taken the time to delve into the security system, it would appear Michael had died on the mission. If the breach on Roan's phone was discovered, the source would lead back to the DoJ. Becoming Percy's designated black box boy had it's advantages, his level of clearance had increased substantially.

Birkhoff had surprised himself, revolt and rebel were not words he lived by, but meeting someone who had been in his shoes before him was more than eye opening. The effect _the Engineer_ had on him was like being bitch slapped into reality. The day Percy brought the father of the black box program to him had been a turning point in his life. Especially when he witnessed Percy snapping his neck. He already knew everyone in Division was expendable, but what really ate away at him was the glimpse into his future. The eccentric genius, who wrote and implemented the protocol for Percy's ultimate leverage against the government, had shown him what he might become in twenty years. Awkward, friendless and paranoid. Birkhoff realized, there would always be another freakishly gifted computer hacker in Percy's personal army ready to take his place. His life would be cut short once he made a mistake or began to be seen as obsolete.

Percy's plan to have Roan use Michael as a tool against Nikita was sick. He was aware of Division's medicine chest of drugs and knowing who the newest test subjects would be made him uneasy. He knew Michael would never be the same if this twisted mission were successful. If he didn't try to stop this, it would destroy Michael and haunt him for the rest of his life.

Birkhoff texted Alex the information to her burner. He was more than a little nervous, he was scared out of his mind, but there was a little voice in his head that wouldn't leave him alone. He kept thinking about Alex and the courage she had shown. He knew he was smart enough to climb through firewalls, alter data and find secrets, the real question, was he smart enough to deceive Percy and get away with it?

* * *

If anyone were to check, the chip in Alex's neck located her at a shopping mall on the other side of the river. She had returned to Nikita's safe house and used her computer to re route her own tracker. She told herself her mentor would be all right. Alex might not be able to save Nikita by herself, but now she had allies, and between them all, they would get her out.

Knowing how far Nikita had gone to save her life had never strayed far from her thoughts. The six months before she infiltrated Division had been dedicated to her training. Day after day, Nikita made it clear that this wasn't some game, these were dangerous people and Alex had to ask herself, _How far are you willing to go?_ These words had become a part of her.

 _"Alex, once you're inside, you have to be careful. You'll see something, hear something or even sense something that will be useful to us. If we're going to do this, than I have to know you're paying attention." Nikita's aura of concern was heavy and potent._

 _"I know I have to be careful, you're a really good teacher." She smiled at her mentor. "I can do this." Knowing that someone cared about her and wanted her to succeed, was something she hadn't experienced since she was a young girl. Alex's life had always been about survival, but having a purpose and a reason to live, had made survival relevant in her life. "You can't teach me everything, some of this stuff I'll have to figure out on my own. You got to trust me."_

 _The teacher smiled back at her student. "I do trust you. What makes everything so complicated is I care about what happens to you. If I didn't care about you, or others, or about myself, I'd still be inside Division."_

 _"I will be all right, because I have you to watch my back." Alex reasoned. "This is our fight and this is who we are."_

 _Nikita reached out and hugged her. "Don't ever forget, you can't change anything if you're dead. Know when to walk away."_

 _"Who else?" Alex pulled away from her embrace and her eyes stared into Nikita's intently. "Who else do you care about?"_

 _This was among the many times that Nikita would look so solemn. "We all have ghosts in our past." She said sadly._

It was all coming together for her. This was also about Michael. Nikita consistently told her he stood solidly by Percy and he wasn't to be trusted. But Alex did. He had saved her and had promised to protect her and she guessed he had made the same promise to Nikita years ago. A bond existed between them, and although this was one that had been crushed, it had not dissolved.

The chime of her burner brought her back to the present and she read the text from Birkhoff. This was turning into something much more dangerous than she realized. When she was done processing the information, she told herself to think like Nikita. _What would she do?_

Alex pressed the numbers to Ryan Fletcher's cell phone and waited for him to answer. _  
_


	15. Lucky Son of a Bitch

Ryan stopped the borrowed SUV alongside of the road. They had found Division's van, and parked away from it, on the opposite side of the road.

"I hope this works." He was nervous, and fatigue was starting to kick in.

Owen continued to look at his laptop. "Me too, but I know I can take this Cleaner. He isn't as good as I was. The trick is to make it look like Nikita got away without any help from us."

He hadn't counted on Owen being this calculating. "What will you do if you're caught? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself to rescue Nikita?"

Owen furrowed his brow, a perplexed look on his face told Ryan what he needed to know. "Do you remember when we were being brought out of Chile on that military air cargo plane? Nikita said we were partners, and partners watch each others back. I won't let her down. She's the only one I feel that way about." His eyes filled with determination. "How about you?"

The CIA Analyst's beliefs had been seriously tarnished, and he knew he wasn't on the same level that Nikita and Owen were trained for, but he wasn't stupid either. Being framed for murder by your own government had given him a crash course in cynicism. "She risked her life to save me, so did you. I'm not interested in becoming a casualty of Division, but if this is what it takes, I'll go down fighting."

A half smile crossed Owen's face, "Atta boy, Ry!" but then the sunshine in him faded. "There's one thing you should know. If we have to take Michael out, to save Nikita, you've got to do it."

For the one hundredth time since he had become involved with exposing Division, Ryan looked and felt a little sick. "What? Even if I was able to do that, why me? You're Rambo."

Owen checked to make sure the safety was off of his assault rifle. He fondled the barrel of the weapon, using it as an excuse not to make eye contact. "I did something that I don't think she'll ever forgive, something that will keep her from ever giving me a chance... I..." He shook his head. "Forget it."

Ryan wasn't sure what had just happened, but he finally felt like he had the upper hand. "You know as well as I do, there's something going on between them? You can't tell me that I have to be the one to kill Michael, I won't hurt her like that. Besides, do you seriously think she's even remotely interested in either of us?" He shook his head in resignation. "Tell me what you did."

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Owen. He was a trained killer, a rogue Division Agent, a man who had obediently killed on demand, and here he was, hashing over the prospects of Nikita's love life with a CIA Analyst. "I said forget it. It looks like Michael's the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet today."

Ryan's cell phone trilled. Another _unknown caller,_ but he didn't hesitate in answering it and when he discovered it was Alex, he listened intently and his eyes grew wide.

"Well?" Owen asked impatiently.

"This is how it is." Ryan answered. "I just hope we aren't too late."

* * *

Roan entered the second bedroom where Nikita was imprisoned. He shut the door behind him and scrutinized the former agent carefully. She looked at him with trepidation but hid her fear behind her anger. There had always been something about Nikita that made him feel exposed and he resented this. When he walked up to her, and pulled the tape off of her face in one quick movement, he felt no remorse.

"Ow!" She shot him a dark look.

"Sorry." Roan replied, clearly ambivalent by her discomfort.

"I didn't know you cared." She said sarcastically. "Why are you here? What have you done to Michael?"

He ignored her questions and looked at her handcuffs. "Where's the key?"

"It's in the desk drawer." She looked toward the corner of the room.

Roan walked over to the desk, retrieved the key and pocketed it.

"You bastard!" She called out.

"Sorry to disappoint you but we're doing things my way." He walked up to her and took a loaded syringe out of his pocket.

Nikita stiffened her body. "What the hell is that?"

"Something to calm your nerves." He showed little emotion as he grabbed her arm, she struggled against him, but it was no use. He pushed her sleeve up and stabbed her with the syringe.

She did her best to keep her panic down, but her control vanished as she felt herself succumb to the drug's effect. "What did you give me!" Nikita shouted out weakly. "What are you doing?" Nikita felt as though she was a dragon flying buzzing high above the two of them.

Roan chuckled to himself and watched Nikita's eyes droop and her body start to twitch. Once he saw she was fully under he spoke to her calmly.

"Nikita, Michael's asking about you. He knows why you stopped him from killing Kasim, he knows you care about him. He's worried and wants to make sure you'll be okay." Roan took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the cuffs that tethered her ankles to the bed post. Her reflexes were jerky, as she readjusted her position to take the strain off of her arms.

"I can let you go, but only if you believe I'm here to help you." Roan was far from convincing when it came to being warm and congenial, but he knew Nikita wouldn't notice. The drug was all the sincerity he needed. "Nikita, did you hear me? I'm here to help you."

She nodded her head. "Yes." She peered through glazed eyes at the Cleaner. "I do care."

Roan waved his hand in front of her face. He unlocked the handcuffs around her wrists. "Stay here and think about that. I'll bring him to you and you can tell him yourself." With a smug expression, he turned to leave.

* * *

"Stop the vehicle." Ari Tasarov commanded. "We're far enough away, they won't know we're here." Gogol's leader pulled out is lap top and brought up a screen that was split into quandrants. Illya looked over his shoulder and Andrei strained to see the video feed from the driver's seat of their car.

The three men watched the screen with fascination. The upper left showed the exterior of the cabin, and the upper right was of the road leading in. The bottom half of the screen showed the inside of the cabin. Michael was clearly visible in one room, while Nikita was visible in the other.

"Ari?" Andrei grunted out. "What are we going to do?"

"Patience. For the moment, we will watch and learn." Tasarov answered him.

"Look!" Illya said with excitement. He pointed at the screen.

With a sly smile on his face, Tasarov nodded. This is interesting, it appears Division has some new blood." He watched the video feed, as Owen Elliot and Ryan Fletcher stealthily made their way toward the cabin.


	16. Truth or Lies?

She took a pen and a post it note off of his work table and scribbled a few words on it before handing him the note.

"Is the room bugged?"

He gave her a smug look of superiority. "You do know who you're talking to, right?"

It was early evening and Alex had returned to Division. As the day wound down, a calm had settled over the headquarters and she had entered relatively undetected. She sought Birkhoff out in his personal workspace, a chilly room filled with towers of computers and large monitors. A comfortable looking couch, cast off from Percy's office was positioned behind him. The underlying drone of hardware churning and little lights blinking decorated the air. It was complete with a small refrigerator stocked with Red Bull.

"I told them. I told them what you told me. That they were using a drug and the plan was for Roan to talk Michael into thinking she was the enemy and kill…" She couldn't finish the sentence, she wasn't ready to consider it much less accept it.

From the chair at his worktable he looked at her reassuringly. "Hey, we are talking about Michael and Nikita. They're both professionals and at the top of their game. Percy always said that Nikita had an extra card up her sleeve and we both know she's annoyingly persistent." He swiveled around in his desk chair and rubbed his neck with his hand. "Besides, Michael's the poster child for Division agents and I know him, he's tough and smart." _Except when it comes to Nikita_ , he thought to himself.

Alex perched on the edge of the couch. "Is there anything we can do?" She felt apprehensive and alone. Nikita was the only one who really knew her, even Nathan would never truly understand. When she saw Birkhoff scooting his chair toward her, she felt he might not know her, but he understood.

Birkhoff reached out to take her hand in his. He realized what he was doing when she didn't pull away. He felt like a door had opened and he was allowed to go into a forbidden room. "I dunno, we should wait until we hear something."

"I'm not very good at waiting." Alex tried to smile through her concern. "The thing is, Nikita's saved my life more than once. I can't let her down."

The steady beep of an alarm went off on his computer and he let go of her hand. She immediately felt bereft at the loss of contact. He swung his chair back around and rolled back to his worktable and console and typed in a command. "Jeezus…" Birkhoff leaned back in his chair and pressed on his temples with his finger tips.

Alex turned pale when she heard the tension in his voice. "What is it?"

"The drug they're using, it was developed through a collaboration between the Chinese and Russians. Those guys in the white lab coats don't just make up psychedelics for fun, they also make antidotes to counter the effects. Without it, it can cause some serious side effects like permanent brain damage. I checked the inventory and Roan was given enough for one person. My guess is that he'll use it on Michael once he's completed the… the kill."

"What are you saying?" Alex look of confusion turned to fear. "Are you telling me that even if Owen and Ryan run interference and stop Roan, either Nikita or Michael has to have their brains fried?"

* * *

Owen scanned the perimeter of the building, searching for guards, security cameras and trip wires. He half expected a small army to confront him, but it was eerily quiet. He carried an assault rifle in his arms as they approached the cabin. "Keep your head down." He muttered under his breath.

With his CIA issued glock in front of him, Ryan followed Owen toward the structure. He felt a tiny rivulet of sweat trickle down his temple. His training was nothing compared to what Division put their agents through and to say he felt inadequate was an understatement, he felt like a wimp. He told himself to breath and squelched down any thoughts of dying.

Owen's eyes darted around the front of the building before he gently tapped the front door with his foot. It swung open silently and they entered the building as quietly as possible.

From the back of the cabin they could hear muffled voices. The two men kept their backs to the wall and cautiously made their way through the living room and into the kitchen. Both of them were on high alert and poised for a hostile attack. They flanked themselves on each side of the doorway that led to the hall and listened.

Roan had left Nikita in the other bedroom and returned to Michael's room. As Amanda had instructed him, he bombarded him with a litany of lies.

"It's true, she's wants to bring down Division, and Gogol is behind it. She's aligned herself with Kasim and we have proof that Ari Tasarov is dealing directly with Al Qaeda. Surveillance photos have Nikita and Tasarov meeting together."

The Cleaner looked for signs that told him Michael was absorbing the story. He paused for a moment before continuing. "Nikita used you. She's been using you since before she ran from Division. If I can't do it, you have to take her down yourself. Letting her live would be a betrayal of everything you believe. Do you understand?"

Michael sat on the edge of the bed, the gun that Roan had given him held in his hand. Every word that Roan recited conjured up images in his mind …she shot him in the alley … the bullet that killed the rebel in the hotel room was meant for him … when he tried to reason with her, she fought against him …she stopped him from getting his revenge against Kasim.

He stood up and looked at Roan through hazy eyes. "I'll do this." Michael walked to the door and into the hallway and toward the room where Nikita was being kept. Every step he took felt like lead weights around his ankles and filled him with confusion.

 _He saw the flirtatious smile on her face. "Your such a tease."_

 _He saw the subtle looks she gave him during their briefings. "We'll watch each others backs."_

 _He felt the emotion in her face when he took out the hostile who had his gun trained on her._

 _He remembered her touch and the gentle kiss they shared._

 _He could hear her clearly. "I will do anything to help you get Kasim!"_

 _Was he really such a fool to have let himself fall in love with her?_

Roan sensed his hesitation. There was one piece of information he was saving, something to push him over. "Before I took care of her boyfriend, the one she wanted to run off with, we had his place bugged. He was working with Gogol. Percy has the audio file of his meeting with Ari Tasarov."

It was a truth that Percy and Amanda had kept to themselves. Not only was it embarrassing that Nikita escaped from her duty has a Division agent, but they had missed the crucial intel that put Daniel Monroe in Ari Tasarov's pocket. At the time, both agreed, keeping this quiet was for the best, little damage had been done and letting Oversight know that Tasarov had one upped them wasn't a card they wanted to play. However, Percy convinced Amanda this might just be the thing to prove to Michael that Nikita was a traitor.

Both men had heard snippets of their conversation and Owen motioned for Ryan to stay back with a gesture of his hand. He held his assault weapon in front of him and made his way silently down the hallway. The sound of movement ahead of him caused him to step back into the bathroom for cover and as he peered out, he watched Michael entering a room and Roan lingering behind him.

When he saw The Cleaner in the flesh, he wasn't prepared for the affect it would have on him. The sight of Emily's prone body lying on the ground with a fatal gunshot wound flashed vividly in front of him.

"You Bastard!" Owen spat out at him. His anger made him reckless, his emotions caused his aim to falter and the sound of his assault weapon going off shattered the quiet as the sound of splintered wood and plasterboard being blown to bits echoed through the cabin.

The slight movement at the edge of his vision had compelled Roan to hit the floor a half a second before the bullets began to fly. He rolled to a stand and lunged at Owen, who went crashing down like a ton of bricks. His assault rifle sprayed the ceiling with bullets, before the Cleaner managed to kick it from his hands. He pulled out his folding Karambit and with a flick of his wrist, the menacing curved blade flew open. He swiped it through the air in a wide arc, it missed Owen by a hair.

Owen caught his arm as it came toward his neck and he struggled to overpower his nemesis but the two men were equally matched. His hand finally struck out and caught Roan in the face with the heel of his hand. It stunned him and he fell backward. He rolled over not once, but twice the split second that two bullets from Ryan's gun hit the spots he had just occupied.

He had scrambled to his feet and Owen spun around in time for Roan to use him as a human shield. Roan pushed him toward Ryan as hard as possible and the two men stumbled backward and he backed away and disappeared down the hallway.

"Find Nikita, I'm going after him." Owen puffed out, his breathing was ragged, but he followed Roan down the hall.

Ryan took his gun and pointed it ahead of him as he carefully stepped toward the bedroom.

* * *

Inside of the room, Nikita had backed herself up against the wall when she saw Michael glaring at her. His eyes were glazed over, his coloring was pale and his skin was clammy. He pointed his Glock at her.

"Michael…" She murmured under her breath. "What are you doing? Put the gun down."

He looked at her suspiciously and tightened his grip on the weapon. "I knew I couldn't trust you." His voice was dark with emotion, the scowl on his face was filled with hatred.

Nikita tried to focus her eyes, but the drug had coursed through her blood stream and she felt weak in mind as well as body. She took a step towards him but stopped when she saw him cock the gun.

"Michael, what are you talking about? I never lied to you." After Roan's pep talk she had thought seeing him would be a chance to right the wrongs in their relationship but his ugly mood shocked her.

"What about Daniel Monroe? I know the two of you were working with Gogol. That's why Percy put him down. He was a traitor." Michael voice shook.

"No!" That's not true. I don't believe you. " Nikita eyes welled up with tears.

Michael stared at her with cold eyes. "He has proof. You're lying, because you were a part of it."

"No… he couldn't have… he didn't.. he loved me…" She started to tremble and her heart felt crushed. She tried to reason through the drugs and the gun in Michael's hand, it had to be a cruel lie, it couldn't be true.

Michael's hand wavered as he spoke and he felt a twinge when she said _he loved me_. "I warned you. I told you it would be dangerous." For a split second his resolve began to soften when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, but the empathy he felt was short lived. He tensed his body and blinked hard, gripping the gun tightly. "What about Kasim? You stopped me. You knew, the one thing that's kept me going was knowing that someday I would find him, and you stopped me."

"Your life was not worth sacrificing. I did it because I didn't want to see you die. Michael, can't you see?" The room began tilt at an odd angle, Nikita compensated for it and she staggered back. She felt dizzy and swayed on her feet.

"The only thing I understand is you betrayed me." He felt the anger return. "What about Gogol? You have been working with Tasarov, I know you have. You must think I'm a fool."

He hesitated when he saw her start to droop. Was she trying to manipulate him? He suddenly felt unsure of himself. No! He was in control. He could hear Roan's voice in his head. _Nikita used you. She's been using you since before she ran from Division._

Nikita felt the room begin to spin around her and she tried to keep herself from sliding down onto the floor. She was pasty white and she shivered. She looked past him and mumbled. "Michael? I'm sorry."

Michael pulled the trigger.

* * *

Amanda sighed inwardly as she watched Alex leave Division. She knew the young Agent had secrets and not only did this nag her on a professional level, it bothered her on a personal level. She wasn't used to dealing with this kind of resistance and she resented it. Yes, not since Nikita had she been this resentful.

Alex was the first recruit they had enlisted since Nikita had left that showed so much potential. She couldn't help but smile to herself when she thought about Nikita.

" _You've really come a long way since you first came to us. I think this was a good choice, don't you?" She finished pinning the emerald and diamond broach to her dress and stepped back to admire her work."_

" _Is that the real thing?" Nikita turned to look at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in a knee length scarlet colored dress that clung to her in the right places. Her hair had been swept back in a sophisticated twist and the small drop diamond earrings she wore and the broach sparkled in the light._

 _Amanda's eyes twinkled. "Yes it is." She stood back and admired her creation, while Nikita turned in a circle enjoying the swing of her skirt._

" _Nice job. She looks like a million bucks. Every man will be envious when they see me walk in with you on my arm, you're just the distraction I need." Percy smirked._

 _He was impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit and the red pattern in his tie matched Nikita's dress. He looked at his Rolex watch. "We don't want to be too late, just fashionably late."_

" _Wouldn't want to keep the top brass waiting." Amanda said merrily._

 _Percy escorted Nikita out of Amanda's office and they walked toward the elevator._

 _Michael appeared out of no where and stood back in the shadows. He watched them leave and had a troubled look in his eyes._

" _Don't worry, she's just an ornament for the evening. She'll come back intact." Amanda used a silky reassuring tone._

 _Michael glared at her. "I don't know what you're talking about." He abruptly walked away._

Amanda snickered to herself at the thought of Michael. He was so very transparent.

Percy walked up behind her. "Trouble?"

"Maybe. Have you had a progress report from Roan?" She asked changing the subject.

"No, but I have every faith in Roan. He's proven himself to be a better Cleaner than even Owen Elliott." Percy appeared calm, but on the inside he was starting to doubt himself.

"Care to join me for a drink while we wait?" Amanda asked soothingly.

"Good idea." Percy followed her toward her office.


	17. Awry

The sound of his weapon firing pierced the air with a murderous rage. His addled perception watched the bullet as it traveled in slow motion toward Nikita's right eye. Michael was known for his marksmanship and rarely missed his target, but it hit the wall above her right shoulder, missing her by no more than an inch. The impact caused both shooter and target to recoil in horror. She slid down against the wall clutching herself and an invisible blanket of utter devastation around her.

The painful look on her face punched Michael in his gut. It took his breath away when he realized what he had done and overwhelmed him with self-loathing. He knew his intent was to kill her, but something inside of him made him miss. Doubt had taken a hold of his damaged and drugged psyche and tampered with his aim. He looked down at the gun in his hand with disbelief and tried to make sense of what was happening.

In three long strides he rushed toward Nikita. "What have I done?" He whispered to himself. He kneeled down next to her and laid his gun down.

She refused to look at him until he took his hand and gently cupped her cheek and turned her face toward his. "Nikita, why did you do it? Why did you lie to me?"

"I never did." She answered him in a small, confused voice. "I did what I thought was right. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I couldn't loose you."

Before he could respond, Nikita's eyes grew wide as she looked past him. "No…."

Michael's own self pity and confusion was short lived when he was hit from behind and knocked out. He fell forward into Nikita's arms.

Ryan stood over them. He had felt like a voyeur when he heard their exchange of words and was about to intervene when Michael pulled the trigger. After listening to the angst in the man's voice, he was shocked to hear the gun discharge, he didn't believe he could kill her, and he was right.

"Nikita?" Ryan bent down and pulled Michael's body off of her and he slumped onto the floor. "We have to leave right now!"

She looked at Michael with a longing she didn't know still existed in her. She touched his face and it made her ache with unrequited love.

Ryan reached out and gently took hold of her shoulder. When she looked up at him, he could clearly see the confusion in her dilated pupils.

"Come on, we have to get out of here. It's not safe." He helped her stand but the relentless buzzing of his cell phone compelled him to answer, it was Alex.

* * *

Owen stood with his back against a tree, the adrenaline in his system was making him twitchy and he tried to calm himself by closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

He had followed Roan outside and into the woods. _More places to take cover_ , he thought to himself, knowing he would take advantage of the places to hide. He gripped the assault rifle and held it against his chest before darting over to another large tree for cover.

The faint rustling of the breeze in the trees and the occasional bird chirping were the only sounds he heard. He kept his head down and ran deeper into the forest, crouching behind trees and clumps of foliage. Owen heard the faintest click and his instinct told him to dive down, a bullet imbedded itself in the trunk of the tree where his head had just been. He crawled like a commando on his belly and flattened himself next to a fallen moss covered log.

Roan cursed under his breath, this renegade Guardian had bested him once on that freighter in Montreal and he wasn't about to let this happen again. He never showed any emotion while completing his work, but this time it was different.

He circled the copse of trees that he had taken cover in. He purposely changed positions knowing Owen would track where the bullet had come from. Roan methodically calculated how many steps to the lake. It would be easy to get within about one hundred feet of the dock and the boat tied to it, but that hundred feet was cleared and that final run was the danger zone. The process in his head was interrupted by another spray of machine gun ammo.

He ducked down and spun around behind another tree before he saw the glint of Owen's assault rifle in the underbrush.

"You can't outrun me!" Owen yelled out. "We have the same training. I know what you're thinking and you won't get away." Owen paused to adjust the clip in his gun. "I remember how to clean up after myself too. It's like getting back on a bike…"

Roan smirked at his audacity. The pompous fool had given himself away. He took a small grenade from inside of jacket and pulled the pin before hurtling it in the direction of his voice.

Owen saw it land and dove out of the way. The grenade exploded in a burst of smoke, and debris flew in every direction. He shook his head to clear it from the impact and grasped his assault rifle in front of him. When his vision cleared, he saw Roan running toward the lake. He stumbled after him and let his gun unload a full magazine in his direction. Roan was fast and agile, he made it to the edge of the lake and dock before the first bullets hit the ground behind him. He jumped into the speed boat and used his Karambit to slice the line that tied the water craft to the dock. In a second, the engine roared to life and he sped away.

Owen unloaded his AK-47, but the bullets only pierced the lake water. "Damn it!" He muttered to himself. He pulled out his cell phone to call Ryan.

"The bastard got away! Is Nikita all right? " Owen puffed out the words as he wound his way around the trees back to the cabin.

Ryan answered him with a hint of panic in his voice. "Listen… We got problems here. I just got a call from Alex. Nikita's going to suffer permanent brain damage if we don't get an antidote into her."

The alarm in his voice wasn't lost on Owen. "Did you find his bag, his suitcase? It's got to be in there."

"Owen, I found his suitcase in the bathroom, along with what's left of the Scientist. There's nothing here!"

* * *

Knowing your way around Division's I.T. labyrinth had its benefits and being able to monitor incoming and outgoing calls was one. Secured lines were tricky, but Birkhoff had found a way to hack in to them and an unsecured line was child's play. He never took the opportunity to eavesdrop unless he thought his life was in danger, except for now. A light bulb had come on when he thought about what was going down at Division and he knew his number would be up if he didn't take control of the situation.

Birkhoff picked up the incoming call from Roan. He was rattled and this was a rare occurrence.

"Get me Percy, NOW!" Roan's deactivated phone had forced him to call in from a land line.

"Whoa, easy does it… connecting you now." Birkhoff said with a hint of disdain and a bit of smirk.

From within Amanda's office Percy picked up the phone. "What is it?"

Birkhoff put on a concerned voice. "Hey Chief, it's Roan. He's on an unsecured line and it sounds like he's lost a few marbles."

Percy punched a button on his intercom. "Report!" He snarled and looked toward Amanda for support.

"The kill is unconfirmed. I was intercepted by Owen Elliot and that CIA Analyst. They showed up right when Michael was entering the location." His voice crackled over the speaker phone.

Percy's face fell and he tensed his fists. "Where the hell are you?"

"I had to leave the scene. I was being pursued and if I had allowed them to capture or kill me there would be no way for me to finish this mission." Roan reasoned.

"He's right." Amanda said in a controlled voice. "You can send him back in with a team. They can clean up any mess that Owen and Ryan Fletcher made."

Division's leader looked less than convinced; he was not a man to forgive careless behavior. He hesitated for a moment. "What happened to Michael?"

"He didn't respond to the first dose of the psychotropic, I had to give him a second. It seemed to do the trick." Roan's connection was weak and his voice faded in and out.

Percy rolled his eyes in anger and frustration. "According to Birkhoff, Michael's tracker shows he's dead."

Roan sounded surprised. "Negative. He was alive when I left."

Amanda raised her eyebrows at Percy and pursed her lips. "Interesting. It seems your plan may have gone awry," she said under her breath.

Percy shrugged. "All right, complete the mission. Call in whoever and whatever you need, but get it done." Percy scowled. "If Michael's alive, give him the antidote, and get Birkhoff to fix your damn phone!"

"What about Nikita?"

Percy grit his teeth. "Kill her, Owen and Ryan Fletcher. I don't care how you do it, but I want them cancelled!"

The line went dead and Birkhoff felt a chill run through him. He wouldn't be able to deal with this on his own. He was busted, he had lied about Michael being dead to deflect attention away from Alex, but that had blown up. He needed some help and there was only one person who he could trust. Birkhoff picked up his cell phone and sent a text to Alex.


	18. Roan Times Four

Ari Tasarov watched Owen trudge back to the cabin. He had been out of video range and Tasarov was unable to watch the cat and mouse game Owen played with Percy's Cleaner. He guessed it had to be lively, both men were prime examples of Division's training.

He watched the video feed with fascination. Nikita, disoriented and looking shell shocked from the drugs, was held up by a not very savvy looking CIA Agent. Michael, knocked unconscious and the color drained from his face looked pitiful, while the renegade agent hovered over him.

Tasarov gestured to Illya. "Can you turn up the sound? I can barely hear them."

Illya, pressed a few buttons on the laptop. "Nyet. This is as good as it gets."

Andrei used the moment to interject. "Ari, we should leave? Others will be coming, Division agents, maybe CIA?"

Tasarov looked annoyed. "Gentlemen, this is only the beginning. We might still have a small part in this production. Be patient."

The three men went back to watching the laptop.

Owen looked down at Michael's prone body. "He's gonna come out of it any minute, we need to restrain him."

Ryan picked up a pair of handcuffs that had been used to restrain Nikita and tossed them to Owen.

Nikita looked horrified. "No! Stop! ...don't..." She shrugged herself out of Ryan's grasp and faced the two men.

"Who sent you? How'd you know I was in trouble?" Nikita looked at them, her brow furrowed. "Why are you working together?"

After an awkward second, Ryan spoke up. "Owen contacted me. We had some intel that led us to believe you were in danger. We thought we owed it to you to check it out."

"Nikita, I don't know what's going down," Owen lied, "but when we got here, Roan was backing Michael up and he had a gun pointed at your head and was ready to kill you."

Nikita dropped down on her knees and took Michael's head in her lap. She stared hard at the two men before she shook her head in disbelief. She discreetly slid Michael's gun behind her.

"Roan drugged us." She said piecing together what had happened. "Michael could have taken that shot, but he didn't."

"She's right." Ryan looked at Owen. "What do we do next?"

Owen looked thoughtful. "I know what I'd do if I was Roan. I'd be coming back to finish what I started."

* * *

Birkhoff's typical fashion choice was a cross between skateboard chic and computer geek. He looked and felt completely out of place and uncomfortable among the Division agents that Roan had hand picked. They towered over him and he knew they were chosen for their killer instincts. They looked at him like he was a bug, ready to be squashed.

He passed out the Com units to the five team members. "Remember, no gossiping, I can hear every word you say. You're being sent out to assist Roan. Alex is going since she knows the layout." He narrowed his eyes when he looked at her.

"How long will it take us to get there?" She asked as she inserted the ear bud.

"Thanks to Percy's, he's approved the use of the chopper. It'll shave a couple hours off of your trip. You'll be dropped off within a half mile of the site. Roan will meet you there. You'll take your orders from him. Give this to him." He handed Alex another ear bud in a plastic case.

The team gathered the rest of their gear in backpacks and headed toward the transport area.

"Alex..." Birkhoff said sternly. He had a way of talking to new recruits that bordered on a scolding. "You better not screw up!"

She hung back and looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

Birkhoff lowered his voice to a whisper. "Your Com is configured so that I can talk to you directly. Our conversation will be filtered, the others won't be able to hear."

She nodded to him.

"Roan's hand picked this goon squad, all of them have a reputation for being bad and slightly off, be careful. Remember, each syringe has enough to counter the effects of the drugs." Birkhoff prayed he was right. He had brazenly gone into Medical and stolen a vial which was inventoried as the antidote. If he was wrong it could be a deadly mistake.

Alex gave him a look that made his heart melt. She must have been frightened, but she put on a brave face. She had integrity, more than most in Division and it made him want to step up to the plate and be a better man.

She hurried after the team and left Birkhoff and his worried expression behind.

With a little prodding from Birkhoff, Alex had been added to the team. Roan seemed ambivalent but agreed to her because of her knowledge of the site. Somehow she would need to get close enough to Nikita to administer the antidote. The question that weighed on them, would they get to Michael and Nikita in time. The next few hours were crucial.

* * *

"You're not telling me everything... I know you're hiding something." Nikita was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and Michael's head still cradled in her lap. Her tone was slightly paranoid.

Owen looked down at them in frustration. "Not now, we have to leave. They'll be back." Birkhoff had texted him about the Strike Team that had been assembled under Roan's orders. "You think Roan is bad, try Roan times four, we aren't safe."

"Owen, a word." Ryan stepped out into the hallway and Owen followed. "What do you propose we do? We're sitting ducks if we stay. We can't force her to leave, can we?"

"I'm not leaving him. I won't!" Nikita called out solemnly. This whole scenario felt like one big nightmare. She gently ran her hand across his forehead. He felt hot and he had started to mumble to himself.

Michael was delirious, whether it was the drugs or having been hit in the head one too many times, he called out to her.

 _"Get down!" Michael threw himself over her and onto the floor as the sniper's bullet shattered the window. It hit the sofa where she had been sitting. "Nikita!" He pulled the lamp off of the table, it crashed onto the floor and went off, immersing them in darkness.  
_

 _"I'm okay. Who the hell is shooting at us?" She looked up at Michael, she was pinned under him.  
_

 _"Not sure. Pick an enemy." He rolled off of her, having someone shoot at you, diminished any awkward moments between them.  
_

 _ _The evening had been spent doing reconnaissance_ and they returned to the safe house they set up on the outskirts of town. When the shot came through the window, the two Division agents were going over the floor plans of the building they would infiltrate._

 _"Michael... here." She slid his gun toward him. "We have to get out of here. The shooter probably has a thermal imaging scope on by now."_

 _Just then another shot rang out, she curled up into a ball, covering her head with her arms._

 _He rolled over toward her, pulled her toward him and rolled back toward the edge of the couch. The furniture would act as a barrier between them and the sniper. Their assailant would either leave, or grow bold and get closer to complete his task. Either way they would have to wait it out._

 _Michael had his arm protectively around Nikita's waist, he was spooned against her back. A minute went by, then another. The fact they were stuck in this compromising position wasn't lost on him. A fragment of his reasoning wasn't willing to let her go, the feeling of her body against his was amazing. At that very moment, under attack by an unknown sniper, he knew he was in love with her._

"Nikita..." he whispered. The emotion in his voice said it all.


	19. What Else?

A half a mile from the cabin, the helicopter hovered above the small clearing and each member of the Strike Team was lowered one by one to the ground. Alex felt her adrenaline spike as she touched down. She wasn't sure what to expect or what she would do, but Nikita had taught her the importance of thinking on her feet. It was a lesson she couldn't have stressed more.

" _You have to use the pressure Division puts on you in a positive way."_

 _She gave her mentor a sarcastic look. "You mean like not peeing my pants"._

 _The corner of Nikita's mouth turned up. "I'm being serious. You may be put in a do or die circumstance. Pick the first. Remember to be clear about your objective. What your other team members do or say will distract you. You have to keep it separated in your mind. This is important, your life will depend on it."_

 _Alex looked contrite. "I wasn't trying to be a brat. How do you know if you're making the right decision?"_

" _You won't, but if you're on your game, you'll be able to turn a bad decision around. Alex, we're dealing with highly trained organizations and individuals, but everyone is human. And if you're really lucky, you'll find someone to watch your back."_

 _A sad look appeared on her face, but it quickly disappeared. "There are good people inside of Division, you just have to find them and convince them to be… good."_

 _Alex narrowed her eyes at her teacher. "I can do it. I've been doing it since my parents were killed. Even when I was strung out on Heroin, I had to make decisions and I had to live with them, even the bad ones…" There had been horror in Alex's young life. Disgusting and horrifying situations with depraved men and evil women, and yet, she had survived._

 _Nikita smiled at her reassuringly and with pride. "I know you can do it."_

Alex released herself from the harness and watched it retract back into the helicopter. _I won't let Nikita down_ she thought to herself as she hurried into the woods, with the Strike Team, for cover. Knowing this gave her the willpower she needed to see this mission through. Any normal girl would be frightened and intimidated by the four men she was with, but they didn't scare her. It was Roan who made her shudder with revulsion.

Roan approached the team and they congregated around him. He looked a little worse from his encounter with Owen, but it had done little to diffuse his dark and calculating demeanor.

"The cabin is just east of here, I want you three to surround it and Collins will come in with me." He nodded to the largest of the four agents. "If it comes down to it, we'll take them all out, no prisoners, not even Michael." Roan spoke calmly but Alex knew he had to be seething inside.

"Here's your Com." Alex held out the device to Roan. "Where do you want me?"

He snatched the ear bud out of her hand and inserted it. "I want you to brief these three on what they need to know, where their going and what to expect. Listen for instructions, you'll be our back up. You think you can handle that?" Roan begrudgingly acknowledged her. After he walked away, he muttered to Collins. "When this is over, take her out."

Alex didn't hear him, but Collins turned and looked at her like she was already dead, and she knew, she was in trouble.

After briefing the three agents on where to go, they left Alex behind. She gave them enough information to get them into position, but not enough to be effective, at least she hoped that was true.

"Birkhoff?" Alex whispered. "What's going on?"

"I should be asking that question." The DoD satellite had the cabin in view and he could make out some activity, but much of it was obscured by trees. "I can make out your buddies and Roan, you, I can't see."

"What about Owen and Ryan?"

Birkhoff shifted the orientation around on his screen. "Not sure…." He adjusted his wire framed glasses on his nose. "I see one of them… about a 400 meters west of you. But only one."

Birkhoff switched screens. "Nikita and Michael are inside of the cabin, in the back bedroom. Thermal imaging shows them together, or someone with four arms and four legs."

"Copy that. Listen Birkhoff, I'm going to go around to the south side of the cabin. I need a distraction."

"If you gave Roan that Com, I got you covered. I have it wired up to malfunction. He'll feel like a two foot long mosquito is in his ear. Tell me when."

Alex smiled nervously to herself. "Yeah, Okay."

"Alex!" Birkhoff startled her with his urgency. "Alex, be careful."

She was touched by his concern and it gave her confidence a boost. "You know I will, and when I get back, I'm gonna kick your ass in Portal 2."

Birkhoff smirked to himself. "Copy that." But the moment of light hearted banter ended and he went back to being worried, especially when Percy and Amanda entered Operations to watch the mission go down.

Amanda looked at Birkhoff suspiciously. "You're running logistics on Roan's team, correct?"

His fingers flew over his keyboard and he squinted up at the overhead monitors. "What else," he said sarcastically "would I be doing?"


	20. This Isn't Working

Owen and Ryan stepped out in the hallway, away from Nikita and Michael. Both of them still suffered from the effects of the drug. Nikita slipped in and out of lucid moments, while Michael seemed to have become more delusional and incoherent.

"We're running out of time. What are you going to do, force her to leave? What about Michael? He is way too out of it to move." Ryan whispered.

"I won't leave her, she'd be better off dead than brain damaged. She might hate me forever, but I say we do what we came here for, we get her out. We'll have to take the chance that Division will think Michael's life is worth saving." Owen's eyes darted around frantically.

Ryan nodded in agreement. "I'll back you up, but she won't go without a fight. We have to find Alex and get Nikita the antidote."

When they re entered the room, Nikita still sat on the floor with Michael's head in her lap. His breathing was labored, his complexion had gone from pale to gray and when he opened his eyes, he had a wild look in them. The gun that Nikita had hidden behind her, was now in her hand, pointed at both men.

"I won't leave him. He thinks I've lied to him… I haven't… you believe me, don't you?" Her voice quivered with emotion.

"Nikita, you could die, or even worse, you could have permanent brain damage, you have to come with us. The drug they gave you is a psychotropic with nasty side effects. Someone is coming with the antidote." Ryan tried reasoning with her. He saw her face go from vulnerable to frightened to determined.

Owen set his assault rifle down and lifted his hands in defensive posture. "No one has to get hurt. We want to help you. Division agents will be here any minute and they'll take care of Michael. You have to come with us, it's the only thing to do."

By the look on her face, Nikita's resolve had weakened for a moment, but then she surprised them when she took a shot and hit the floor next to Owen. "I can't… I won't let it end this way."

"It doesn't have to end this way. If he really cares, what's happened here can't change that." Ryan continued to reason.

Nikita's hand continued to tremble and when she took another shot at them, they saw how reckless and unpredictable she could be. "I won't miss the next time." she uttered defensively.

Ryan's hand clamped down on Owen's shoulder. "Let's go. This isn't working."

Owen looked like he might argue but reconsidered and gave Nikita a defiant look. "We're coming back for you."

He reached down to pick up his weapon and both men left the room toward the front door.

Ryan muttered under his breath. "We have to find Alex."

They left the cabin and crouched down behind a large tree. Birkhoff had texted Ryan and explained the situation in about twenty words.

Ryan read the message to Owen. "Listen, it might not seem like it, but we have the advantage. They may know we're here, but they don't know that Alex and Birkhoff are with us."

Just then the distant whirr of helicopter blades grew louder and they could see it hovering overhead.

"We need to split up. We can meet at the spot under the helicopter." Ryan looked at Owen for confirmation.

Owen still had the AK-47 in his arms and reached into his inside coat pocket. "Take this, it might come in handy." He gave Ryan a small canister of tear gas and kept one for himself.

The rogue Guardian and ex Cleaner watched his CIA accomplice disappear into the woods. He counted to ten before following behind but veering north of him. They would meet and hopefully, they would find Alex and the antidote.

Owen felt a pang of envy when he thought about Nikita being so protective of Michael. _"Lucky son of a bitch"_ he muttered to himself. He didn't have time to question it, their lives were on the line, and even though he thought Division's second in command didn't deserve her, he would still do whatever it took to keep them both alive.

Ryan wound his way around through the trees. He hesitated behind a cluster of bushes for a moment. He had also seen the look in Nikita's eyes, even compromised by drugs it was evident how she felt about Michael. He felt sorry for them both. This wasn't a story that would have a happy ending.

Ryan ducked down when he heard footsteps approaching. It had to be Roan's team and he wasn't about to confront them. He sank down into the brush and saw a set of boots walk by and sighed with relief when they kept going. The relief he felt was short lived when he realized another pair of boots had stopped next to him. He heard the sound of a gun being cocked and a menacing voice.

"Don't move, unless you want your head blown off."

* * *

Nikita continued to hold Michael's head in her lap. He had been lapsing in and out of consciousness and was burning with fever. She looked down at him, she had to make him believe her, it was the only thing that mattered. So much had happened between them, it seemed impossible to focus on any one thing. Bits and pieces of past Missions flew at her, it became a collage of confusion. One encounter inside of Division kept coming after her, it was one that she would always remember. It happened before she was sent under deep cover and it seemed to be indicative of their relationship.

 _The door to the computer server room abruptly swung open and Michael stood there with a menacing look on his face. She was surprised to see him. They had argued, but neither of them would back down and she had purposely avoided him. She wasn't interested in a confrontation, so she glared back at him, feeling uncertain of what to do next. He answered that question by reaching out and grabbing her arm and pulling her into the room, shutting the door behind them._

 _Nikita gasped, his grip on her arm would leave a bruise and she would hate him for it, but she didn't call out or try to fight back. This was permission enough for both of them. He pushed her against the wall, trapping her wrists with his hands with enough force that she whimpered. The faint sound she made was drowned out by the white noise in the room. His eyes bore down on her angrily and then his lips found hers. She didn't resist, she couldn't and instead she deepened the kiss between them._

 _This wasn't the Michael she knew. Within the walls of Division he was always so controlled and stoic and never this impulsive. She took some measure of pride, in knowing she could elicit these feelings in him and cause him to act so boldly. When he let go of her wrists, her arms snaked around his neck and their tongues tangled and danced against each other._

 _The kiss left them both breathless and they struggled not to drown, but neither would relent. Her hands travel down to his waist, tracing the edge of his leather belt with her fingers. She found the buckle and quickly undid the belt and the button of his slacks. His breathing was ragged and she felt his excitement brush against her hands as she slid his zipper down._

 _Michael reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled it up around her waist. She felt his fingers around the edges of her panties and she arched into his hands. This time, he heard the sounds she made. It was about passion, need and bitterness. For once, neither of them would walk or run from each other.  
_

 _This was that moment, when there is no turning back and logic and common sense are just words. The right time doesn't exist when you're life belongs to Division. _They had come close before, but it seemed their first time together would be an act of desperation.  
__

 _Call it fate or misfortune, but a bang on the door caused them both to go rigid. The door opened a crack while they fumbled to pull their clothing in place and put themselves back together._

" _You have about a minute, Amanda's sent guards to go door to door. She's been looking for Nikita." Birkhoff scolded them._

 _Michael looked at Nikita, her lips were rosy and swollen from his kisses and she looked up to see his face flushed with desire. They exited the computer room and were met by Birkhoff, shaking his head in disbelief. The two glared at each other before walking away in opposite directions. They had not exchanged a single word._

Nikita suddenly felt that same loss of control and the longing she felt for Michael. She was devastated to think that he hated her _._ She brushed her fingers across his forehead and his eyes flickered open.

"Michael? Can you hear me? I never lied to you, please... please believe me." She pleaded.

"He told me you've been lying to me since the very beginning." His eyes lolled back in his head.

Nikita stifled a sob. "No." She choked out and tears of regret rolled down her cheeks.

What she didn't hear were the thoughts that ran through his head. _It doesn't matter, I still love you._

* * *

She heard the rustle in the underbrush first and then the sounds of twigs crackling underfoot. She slowly turned around to find Owen pointing his AK-47 at her.

"Alex?" There was more than a hint of worry in his voice.

She nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I'm Alex and you're Owen. I've seen your picture in Operations. Where's Ryan Fletcher?"

In the last 48 hours, Owen had heard a lot about Alex, but he couldn't have imagined how young she was. He tried not to stare. "He's on his way. Listen up Alex. We don't have much time. Do you have the antidote for Nikita?"

"Yes, two syringes, one's for Michael."

"We need to get back into that cabin."

Alex looked surprised, she pressed the Com unit in her ear and a panicked look appeared on her face. "They're asking for back up. I have to go." She whispered. "I have the antidote… I'll get it to both of them. It's too dangerous for you, if you're captured, I won't be able to do anything… I have to go!"

Owen whispered back. "Too dangerous? I know what Roan's thinking, I can help get you in there."

It seemed impossible and ridiculous to leave Nikita's life in the hands of a teenage girl, but Owen had little choice as he followed her into the woods back toward the cabin.


	21. Concerned

"Aren't you the least bit concerned?" Amanda asked with genuine curiosity. She tossed Percy a quizzical look.

He shrugged. "You think I should be?" He reached for the decanter on his credenza and poured a healthy amount of scotch into a glass.

She chuckled to herself. Answering a question with a question was so passive aggressive. "Not necessarily, I'm sure your plan was well thought out. I was referring to anomalies, the unexpected."

Percy took a large swallow from his glass, the burn that followed did little to appease his foul mood. At times he appreciated Amanda's subtle jabs, they gave him perspective and were relevant to the situation. At other times, like now, they gave him a tension headache.

"Roan is consistent. His detachment makes him extremely valuable and trustworthy. This isn't a difficult mission."

Amanda crossed her legs and her patent leather red pumps caught the light. "I totally agree."

He sat himself down behind his desk and flipped open his computer and began typing. "If you have something to say, say it!" His patience with her had grown thin.

Her eyebrows went up at the outburst. "I pointed out to you not too long ago that your mission to destroy Nikita has become, how should I say, rather elaborate. It may not serve you well to play this game." She paused, gauging his reaction. When he said nothing, she continued. "Nikita aside, what about Michael? His fuse is growing shorter by the minute, it's only a matter of time before he detonates."

He hated to admit it, so he didn't, even though he knew she was right. "Live and learn." He said dismissively. "I'll let you know how it goes."

Amanda rose out of the chair and walked over to the door. "We are on the same side you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." He huffed out.

As she left they both had the exact same thought. _Whose side?_

* * *

He felt cold, the pins and needles kind of cold that hurts and makes it hard to breathe. He gasped for breath until he felt her fingertips on his face, her touch was gentle and comforting and it calmed him and eased his pain. Yet Michael's damaged psyche still fought it. She had lied to him, and all the evidence he needed clearly existed, in the fragments of information Roan had fed him. The pieces fit together and it all made sense, but with each stroke of her fingertips, something inside him made him chip away at this _truth_. Each layer uncovered another question and the confusion it caused, left him suffocating in doubt.

Division had taught him to focus and to deflect his pain into anger. His days were filled with reminders of what he had lost and his heartache had turned into an uncomfortable rage. It gave him a reason to give his life to Division, and unlike grief, it hardened his exterior and drove him on. It was only when Nikita had come into his life, only to leave him, did he realize the ache she caused was different. He felt no outrage, only a sense of loss and sadly a feeling of responsibility. In his delirium, he could no longer separate the past from the present, and he remembered.

" _I know this is difficult for you. As her handler, you have a vested interest in her success. You've done well, we can all see it and know it's because you've trained and nurtured her along." Amanda gave him a sympathetic look._

 _Michael chided himself for feeling betrayed. He had no right. He viewed the video feed with disgust. She had insisted he come to her office and she purposely picked a piece of footage that she knew would be painful for him to watch._

 _He grit his teeth and the fury in his eyes was directed at himself as much as Amanda. "Turn it off." He demanded and looked away from the video monitor. It had started out with Daniel Monroe leading Nikita into a bedroom and there was no question where their passionate embrace and kisses would lead._

" _Michael, I'm showing this to you to help you. Your feelings for her have compromised your judgment. You need to face the truth, she doesn't love you." Amanda's tone was filled with compassion, but he knew her ways and he knew she was toying with him._

 _The truth was more tortuous than either Amanda or Percy could imagine, she did love him. He had crossed the line and fallen in love, but loving Nikita was dangerous and impossible. He feared for her life and combined with his need for revenge, he chose Division and vengeance over her. What he struggled to accept, was how deeply he hurt her by his rejection. When Daniel entered her life, she took comfort in his arms, and there was no one to blame but himself._

" _You need to cut your ties. If you don't, you'll become a liability." Amanda warned him. "It's only your effectiveness as a team that has kept Percy at bay, but even he has become concerned with where your loyalties lie."_

 _Michael glowered at her. "You have no need to be concerned. You're creating a problem that doesn't exist, it has nothing to do with me." He puffed himself up with confidence. "And this…" he growled and nodded back to the video "… is part of her cover. If anything, she is thorough."_

 _Amanda cocked her head ever so slightly, questioning his sincerity. "I see." She smiled at him. "I'm glad to know where you stand."_

" _I have two missions going down, is that all?" He willed himself not to show any emotion and walked toward the door._

" _Yes of course." She crossed her arms in front of her and challenged him through her body language. "So, it's your recommendation that we end this relationship."_

 _Michael turned back to her and smirked. "No, whatever for? He's not a threat, I suggest you leave them alone, besides, the male attention will sharpen her skills as a lover."_

 _He walked through the door and realized what he had just done and a little piece of him died._

 _Nikita, he thought to himself, you deserve to be happy."_

A sense of danger abruptly broke up the memory. At first, it was the voices and then the absence of Nikita's touch. Even through his fever, he knew they were in trouble.

"I thought you would have left with that traitor and his accomplice. " Roan looked at them blankly and with no hint of emotion. He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and held it up so she could see it.

"Give it to him." Nikita begged. "You bastard, give it to Michael."

"It's too bad Michael was never able to handle his assets. Percy may think he's worth saving..." He took the syringe and depressed the plunger and the antidote squirted out and up into the air. "But I don't."


	22. The Play Continues

"Come on, come on Fletcher… answer my friggin' text!" Owen muttered to himself frustrated by the lack of response. He pocketed his phone and followed Alex, as they stealthily made their way back toward the cabin. When the building came into view, Alex motioned for Owen to stop, she would go in the rest of the way by herself. He gave her a nod of encouragement before she carefully picked her way toward the cabin.

Owen watched her wind her way through the trees and press herself against the outside wall of the cabin. She took a deep breath before she walked sideways toward the front door and finally disappeared inside. He was duly impressed by her courage and willingness to save Nikita, but he was wary of her inexperience.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he looked at it impatiently. It was a text from Ryan.

 _where r u?_

Owen texted back his location. He listened intently and waited to see what would happen next.

Ryan groaned as he was roughly turned over. He opened his eyes, but they refused to focus and the conversation going on around him seemed distant and muffled.

"What next?" Andrei questioned his Superior. "Why don't we just kill him?" They crouched on the ground around the downed CIA Analyst and spoke in hushed tones.

Ari Tasarov looked at Ryan's phone with amusement." I believe we'll wait. He isn't a major player and his presence might be useful." He had a contemplative look on his face.

Illya gave Andrei a look of doubt, but nodded in agreement.

Tasarov looked at the two men with a hint of disappointment and shrugged. "We still have time and the curtain hasn't come down on Act II yet."

* * *

Birkhoff had cut communications with both Alex and Owen. He knew Percy and Amanda were keeping tabs on him and he wasn't taking any chances. The Tech Guru knew when to back off, he had been playing this game inside of Division for six years. He may have been viewed as a Geek and had accepted the ridicule that came with it, but he was much more in tune to the environment around him than anyone gave him credit for.

The video games he played had taught him patience, perseverance and forced him to make split second choices. They fine-tuned his reflexes and each level he completed gave him confidence. The graphic novels and comic books might have seemed immature, but the characters were true heroes and reminded him that integrity and courage existed. He may have lacked their super powers, but his super power was called paying attention and knowing when, not to pay attention.

He squinted at his monitor as he continued to search for information. He had hacked into a Government bio-weapons database that was off the books and tried to make sense of the scientific and medical terminology that it provided.

The drug that Percy had commandeered came from the black market. It was part of a joint effort between the Chinese equivalent of Division and Russian billionaire Mikhail Prokhorov. Prokhorov's precious metals empire had been built legitimately, but after his first billion was made, he had his hands in some dirty places, and Gogol was one of them.

After reading up on the designer drug, he used a program he had written for Percy. It erased any record of his browsing history on the Division server. Birkhoff removed his wire framed glasses and rubbed his eyes, before picking up his phone.

"What is it, Birkhoff?" Percy answered impatiently.

"Yeah, Boss… uh, Sir. You mind if I get some air? I'm not feeling too good." He stumbled over his words and prayed it wouldn't raise any suspicion.

Percy's reply was brusque. "Go ahead, but you're on stand bye. Don't go far."

"Yes Sir." He logged out of his computer and got up to leave.

* * *

The cabin's sparse furnishings were in shambles. She walked through the living room, where the cushions on the couch were askew and items were strewn about. In the kitchen, wooden chairs were overturned and a free standing shelf had been knocked over. It's contents dumped on the floor, scattered and kicked around. Alex picked her way around the books, and cooking utensils cautiously with her weapon held tightly in her hands.

She pressed the Com unit in her ear. "I'm here." She whispered waiting for a response and hoping to hear Birkhoff's voice.

"Back here." It was Roan and the hair on the back of her neck prickled.

"Copy that." She whispered back, walking through the kitchen and down the hallway. She saw bullet holes in the walls and ceiling, splinters of wood and pieces of sheet rock on the floor. A trail of smeared blood led to the bathroom and she hurried by.

Roan surprised her by appearing in the doorway of the bedroom. His expression was unreadable. Collins stood next to him, but instead of a blank expression, his was menacing.

"We need you to keep watch over these two. They shouldn't give you any trouble. Collins and I and the rest of the team will apprehend the other two." He stared at her and she felt as though he could see through her. "Understand?"

She straightened up and nodded confidently. "Yeah, I understand." What she understood was this opportunity was a gift and she would use it wisely. "Anything I should know?"

Roan continued to stare at her. "No, but leave them alone. They've been contained." He brushed past her quickly.

"Watch out, Alex." Collins said under his breath as he walked by.

Alex stood with her back to the door and listened as their footsteps faded. When she knew they were gone, she slowly opened the bedroom door and entered the dark room.

The only light came from the hallway behind her. She peered into the darkness and could make out pieces of furniture and as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized the two forms she saw were Nikita and Michael laying on the floor facing the wall. She hurried over to them and tamped down the fear that was bubbling up in her.

She took the Com unit out of her ear and placed it in her pocket. "Nikita? Can you hear me?" She extracted the knife that was strapped to her calf and quickly cut the plastic ties that squeezed her arms together and then the one that strapped her wrists together. Nikita moaned as the blood rushed back into her extremities and as Alex slowly turned her over.

Alex fought to keep her panic down. She pulled the duct tape off of Nikita's mouth. "What did they do to you?" She brushed her hair away from her face, her skin was cold and clammy and her eyes were closed. One of her cheekbones was bruised and when Alex used her fingers to find a pulse on her neck, she was startled to find it racing.

"Oh my God…. What have they done?" She whispered under her breath. She looked over to find Michael was also bound in the same way and she released him from his plastic shackles. He was limp and sprawled out on the floor like a rag doll.

Alex felt helpless and her eyes welled up with tears, but then she remembered what Nikita had taught her. Focus. She quickly took out the small metal box that held the two doses of antidote and laid them on the floor. She picked up the first syringe and expelled any air that might be in the tip and was ready to administer it in Nikita's arm when a large hand wrapped around her neck and pulled her back.

Alex gasped loudly and found herself tossed across the floor. She shook off the sharp pain in her side and got up only to be faced with Collins. He outweighed her by a hundred pounds and his hands were like baseball mitts compared to hers. She lashed out at him and went for his eyes and managed to jab her fingers into one of them. His hands went to his face and he swore to himself. Alex scrambled around him. She went for the syringe that had been knocked out of her hand but Collins grabbed her around her waste and picked her up off of her feet.

She squirmed and her legs kicked back and forth wildly. When his arm slipped upward over her chest she bent her head down and bit his forearm as hard as she could. Collins howled in pain and released her and she fell onto the ground. She spat out a mouthful of blood and sprang up, running for the door to escape, but Roan and another team member stood in her way. She froze on the spot and backed away from the two men and into Collins, who wrapped one of his hands around her neck and squeezed.


	23. Outside of the Grid

"Alex? Where are you?" Birkhoff whispered, pressing the Com unit in his ear while walking quickly down the street. The silence on the other end practically screamed trouble. He dodged a man coming out of the subway entrance as he was going in and ran down the flight of steps onto the platform. The subway car emerged from out of the darkness, rushing and rumbling down the track, but he hardly noticed. He was submerged in conflict and indecision, knowing he had to do something, even if it was risky.

It was a forty-minute ride into the city and he brought his new stalker, high anxiety along for the ride. It was a constant reminder on how screwed he really was. At the 42nd Street Station, he left the subway and followed the crowd of people onto the busy streets of mid-town. Birkhoff kept pace and camouflaged himself within a group of people who walked briskly up the street. When he finally slowed down, he look over his shoulder, paranoid that he might have been followed.

In a city of ten million people, you can easily find a place to hide in plain site. His favorite haunts were obscure bookstores, dingy bars with old school pinball machines, and the video arcade that resembled a night club for the socially challenged. But today, he walked up the steps of a beautiful Beaux-Arts designed building and into it's cavernous foyer. The high ceilings, leaded glass windows and cold marble floor made the rooms feel much larger than they were. The sound of a chair scraping on the floor, or footsteps on the hard surface, or someone clearing their throat, echoed and broke up the silence. Inside of these walls, Birkhoff had always felt anonymous, but in his rattled condition, even the public library made him feel conspicuous and out of place.

He had fled Division headquarters, when a moment of clarity attacked his consciousness, and he realized he actually wanted to do something to help Alex and Michael. For once, it wasn't all about me. These feelings would undoubtedly complicate his life, his life being his work and his work being a twenty first century slave, to a black ops organization called Division. It would be easier if he could flip a switch and turn a blind eye to the danger others were in, but that wasn't going to happen and he knew it.

Over the last few days, he felt as if he were unraveling and this was a prime example. He sat down in front of one of the public computer terminals and logged on as a guest user. It was a surreal experience, agreeing to the library's internet rules and regulations. He couldn't help but think, how ridiculously ironic, but this was not the time to be inside of Division's I.T. universe pulling strings.

He took a small flash drive and plugged it into the USB port. It ran the same program he wrote for Percy and even if he were being tailed, this would erase his history on the public server. Once he was logged on, he used a search engine to find the web page and phone number that would eventually lead him to the right person. Contacting someone outside of Division's grid was dangerous, especially someone who Percy considered a thorn in his side, but like everyone he seemed to know, his options had dwindled. He scribbled the number on a piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket.

Outside of the building, he found a shady spot and leaned against a tall sculptural column. Using one hand, he dialed in the number and with the other, he swept his hair out of his eyes. He let the phone ring until an annoying menu of options greeted him. It took patience to navigate the maze of phone prompts, but he eventually got to where he was going.

"Office of the Director, Agent Martin speaking. What can I do for you." The male voice dripped with bureaucracy.

"I need to speak with Director Harrison, immediately." Birkhoff's voice wavered ever so slightly.

"I see. Please identify yourself." Agent Martin said with a hint of surprise and a lot of suspicion.

"Birkhoff, Seymour Birkhoff." He gripped his phone tightly and felt his hands getting clammy. "Tell her I have a situation that involves Percy."

There was a pause. "Hold the line."

It was less than a minute but in that time, Birkhoff considered hanging up. The only reason he didn't was because he had identified himself and knew it was too late to walk away.

Barbara Harrison sat behind her desk at Langley and picked up the line. "Hello Seymour, this had better be good." She didn't attempt to keep the animosity out of her voice. "What's Percy gotten himself into this time? Does this have anything to do with Ryan Fletcher?"

* * *

Owen hunched down among the foliage and hid behind the trunk of a large tree. He watched one of Roan's Division agents appear out of nowhere and head straight for the cabin. The agent stood on the front porch, sweeping his eyes around the perimeter of the house. A few minutes passed, when Roan and a burly looking agent came out of the building. They exchanged a few words, but instead of leaving, the three of them went back inside.

Not knowing what was going down inside the cabin made Owen feel like jumping out of his skin. Was Alex's cover blown? Did she have time to administer the antidote? Maybe it was as simple as Roan forgetting something? He did his best not to over think the situation; he knew too much speculation would make him hesitant and ineffective.

Owen strained to see something and was focused on the faint sounds coming from the direction of the cabin. A twig snapped behind him and he instantly rolled on the ground to his right, dodging a torrent of bullets that came flying his way. Owen fired back, and one of Roan's other agents staggered back, before crumpling to the ground.

Inside the cabin, Collins held Alex against the wall with his enormous hand clamped down on her neck. He squeezed just hard enough that she struggled to breathe. She knew, if he didn't let up she would pass out from oxygen deprivation. The color had drained from her face and her eyes began to tear up. In a few moments, her lips would take on a bluish tinge and she would stop breathing. Roan looked on with interest, he seemed genuinely curious at watching her slowly fade away. He showed no emotion while Collins slowly strangled Alex. It was the sound of gunfire outside that broke their concentration.

"Let her go." Roan reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. "She might as well join Nikita and Michael and their road trip to insanity." The corners of his mouth barely turned up as he spoke, but it was the closest thing to a smile that any of them would see.

Collins cruelly bounced Alex's head against the wall before he released her and she slid down, gulping for air and wheezing. Roan handed him the syringe and Alex's eyes filled with fear. He stuck her in her neck, she was weak from her ordeal and her arms flailed about in a futile attempt to stave him off. Collins pressed the plunger at the very moment they heard footsteps running down the hallway, and the sound of gun fire letting loose.

The agent who stood next to Roan turned and fired off his weapon, but a bullet from Owen's weapon had already hit him in his throat. It caused his aim to be high and he missed Owen by a few inches. Roan had his Karambit in hand and with one smooth movement he flicked it open and threw it. Owen hurled himself out of the way, the knife missed his face, but still hit him.

Owen continued to fire his weapon, even though he felt the stick of the curved knife in his shoulder, and managed to hit Roan dead center in his chest, throwing him back. Collins had dropped the syringe and fumbled to get his weapon out, but Alex had grabbed the edge of his coat, giving Owen the extra second he needed for the kill shot. Collins looked stunned and teetered precariously before he toppled over.

Owen finally took a breath and he dropped his weapon and clutched his arm, debating whether or not to remove the knife imbedded in his shoulder. Before he could decide, he collapsed to his knees and struggled not to loose consciousness.


	24. Heads Will Roll

The steely look in his eyes alarmed Amanda and she knew only one thing made Percy look this unhappy. Nikita. It usually meant she had tampered with a mission, and lately it was happening a lot. She thought better of opening the conversation with an obvious question and waited for him to speak first.

It had taken time for Percy to assemble a team within the confines of Division that he could work with. It was never about trust, since he knew he didn't have it in him to trust, but it was about competence, expectations and most of all control. There were three people who fell into this category.

Michael was a patriot, someone who believed in freedom, justice and accepted that shades of gray were the color of choice when it came to the greater good. More importantly he was driven by a personal vendetta. Using the death of his wife and child was usually enough to keep him in line, that was until Nikita had come to Division. She stirred something up inside of him, something that Percy knew only served to confuse and stand in the way of their work, something called morals and ethics. It was obvious that Michael was smitten with her and this annoyed Percy to no end. He had to consider, perhaps he had overplayed his hand, and concocting this scheme to put Michael in his place and rid them all of Nikita was a tad bit extreme. However, he still marveled at the ingenious idea and hated the thought that it would fail. Percy would regret any collateral damage, Michael would be hard to replace.

Then there was Birkhoff. All he needed was his state of the art toys and the fear of God put in him. The first was fairly easy, the second had to be dosed out periodically. Most recently, he had refreshed his fear by having him witness the cancellation of the Engineer, and Percy banked on this putting him in his place. It had seemed to do the trick, however something else was going on with the young cyber genius. What Percy saw, that made him keep an eye on Birkhoff, was this need he had developed for friendship and much worse, an ideal called free will. These traits and characteristics had their time and place, but not on his dime and not in Division. This would be dealt with.

But, what really caused Percy to watch his back, was Amanda. She was brilliant, ruthless and manipulative, and he admired all three of these traits in her. However, he was also wary and always cautious, less he become a victim of her subtle games. It wasn't easy to have someone dissect your every move and know your weaknesses. She had recently questioned him one too many times and given him this smug look of disapproval. Yes, she was a formidable opponent, but so was he, and he was paying attention.

Amanda grew tired of the prickly silence. "What happened?" She asked gently.

Percy involuntarily rotated his neck before answering. "Tell me you had nothing to do with this." he replied sharply.

Amanda looked surprised at being accused of something she had no part in. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

"Let me tell you what's going to happen... heads will roll if I have to defend myself to Oversight on this one." Every word was filled with contempt.

"What exactly are we talking about?" Amanda was genuinely curious.

"It seems Barbara has gotten wind of this covert mission I sent Roan on." His eyes flashed with anger.

Amanda looked worried. "Barbara, as in the CIA Director? This can't be good."

* * *

Like a prisoner of war, Ryan wore handcuffs, and was marched ahead of his captors. Illya used an automatic rifle to prod him along, while Andrei continued to mutter threats at him. Tasarov was feeling pretty cocky, they had easily taken one of Roan's agents out and instead of finding Owen, they had come across the dead body of another agent. The sound of gun fire was all the information they needed to clue them in on the situation.

"Ari, I still think we should kill this one." Andrei grunted out, he purposely pushed Ryan down onto his knees.

"If you're going to kill me, do it now!" Ryan said bravely. He felt confident that if they intended to kill him, they would have. He resented being herded around, first by Owen and now by the Russians, he found it humiliating. He would stand up for himself, while he still could.

Tasarov scoffed. "Please, melodrama doesn't suit you very well. The courageous CIA Analyst, ready to die for what he believes? I think we should rewrite this script."

"I would appreciate a happy ending then. What do you plan on doing?" Ryan asked.

"I believe I can help you, and in return, I will call upon you to help me."

"Help you? I don't think so." Ryan answered boldly.

"Ryan, let me tell you something. Contrary to the way we have been portrayed, Gogol and I are more compassionate than Percy and his Kingdom will ever be. Of course, you can refuse me and you can watch Nikita and the others die." Tasarov looked ambivalent. "It's in your best interest to hear me out."

* * *

Alex looked up to see the painted wood ceiling above her. She felt numb, unable to swallow and her mind wouldn't focus and felt disoriented. She tried to piece together the last few hours, but her thoughts were like a deck of cards that had been shuffled.

She turned her head and cringed, and wondered if she were like the other bodies lying on the floor; Owen, Roan, two Division agents, Nikita and Michael, all of them either dead or dying.


	25. Side Effect

From the porch of the cabin, with his assualt weapon cradled in his arms, Illya scanned the perimeter of the property. He was determined not be taken by surprise. Andrei stationed himself behind the Cleaner's vehicle, he also held his weapon close to his chest, and like his comrade, he was alert and his senses had been re-booted.

They had marched the CIA Analyst back to the cabin, the carnage inside and outside served as a reminder to Ryan of how volatile this situation was. Bodies were strewn about, laying in pools of their own blood and the ground was covered with spent shell casings. With a gun pointed at his back, Ryan led him into the cabin where two more dead bodies lay next to five beating hearts, each one belonging to someone connected to Division.

A chill ran through Ryan when he saw them. At first he thought they might all be dead, until he heard a groan of pain.

Ryan knelt down next to Owen, the Karambit was still imbedded in his shoulder. He knew removing it could cause him to bleed out, he needed a doctor, and right away. He checked his pupils and even in his semi conscious state, Owen cursed and threw a punch, but Ryan was able to deflect his blow.

"Great, go ahead and try it again, for once I know I can kick your ass." Ryan muttered. He saw a flicker of recognition in Owen's eyes. Before he went to check on the others, he whispered. "Don't move. We're getting out of here."

He went to Nikita, she lay on her back unconscious and if it wasn't for her chest rising with every difficult breath, he might have thought she were dead. Her gray coloring, the cold sweat that coated her face and neck and her weak and rapid pulse were indications she was going into shock.

"Nikita?" He murmured. "Can you hear me?" She turned her head slightly at the sound of his voice but within a few seconds she surrendered to the safety of oblivion. Ryan looked over at Michael, it was evident, he fared no better.

Alex moaned, she remembered this feeling, it was like getting a fix, but the drug she was given didn't numbed her the way that a nickel bag of heroin use to. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, but the exertion caused the room to spin and she sank back down to the floor.

"Antidote" she whispered to Ryan. "Nikita."

Ryan helped her sit up and searched her face for answers. "What did they do to you?"

"He stuck a needle in my neck." She whispered. "Nikita… the antidote…" She looked scared and lost, and struggled to stay lucid and in control.

Ryan found an empty syringe laying next to her. He spotted another across the floor, it had been tossed away during their struggle. The tube was crushed and the needle broken. The box with the other syringe had slid under the dresser and was hidden from view.

Tasarov kicked Roan with the toe of his shoe and found the Cleaner was still alive. He had been hit at point blank range in the chest, but his Kevlar vest had saved him. His coat was riddled with bullets and he suspected several of his ribs were broken and judging from his labored breathing, his lung was punctured.

"We got to get some help, these people are going to die if we don't do something." Ryan looked desperately at the scene in front of him. "What do you want from me? I'll do whatever you want if you help them."

The Russian snickered and looked amused. "Agent Fletcher, I'm sure you're mother would be proud of you." He extracted a small leather case from inside his jacket pocket and unzipped it.

He held up a vial for Ryan to see. "This contains the antidote to the drug Percy used. From the looks of it, Michael and Nikita in particular, are in dire need of it." He nodded toward them. "Our Russian scientists carried the Chinese on this project. We perfected its use and refined the antidote, however unlike the Chinese, we never sold it on the black market and if we did, it wouldn't have been to Percy."

A look of panic crossed Ryan's face. "I will do whatever you want. Let me have it."

In the background, Owen objected by groaning.

The Russian tossed Ryan the vial. "From one gentleman to another, I'll take your word for it."

Ryan caught it in mid-air and reached for the leather case that held syringes. "How much?" He asked frantically. "How much do I give them?"

Tasarov smiled. "Do I look like a doctor?" He chuckled at the look of hatred on Ryan's face. "Two milliliters for Nikita and the girl. Double it for Michael."

Ryan didn't hesitate and he prepared and administered the drugs, first to Nikita, then Alex and finally Michael. He crouched over them as if waiting for a miracle.

"Did I mention? The antidote does have a small side effect." Tasarov announced with a hint of mirth.

* * *

CIA Director Barbara Harrison stood, looking out of the window of her office, taking in the view. She wasn't aware of the sunlight on the autumn colors, her thoughts were focused on a liability named Percy. Percy's propensity to take matters into his own hands was a problem, and his loss of control in this instance was proof of it. She would have loved to have seen the look on his face when he found out she went to The Senator, who had recently become the voice of Oversight.

 _"Barbara, Percy's agents are dropping left and right, we can't have this, there will be questions. I'm counting on you to clean up this mess."_

 _"I can fix this, but you have a bigger problem on your hands."_

 _"We are aware of Percy's personal agenda and we will be dealing with him."_

 _"Senator, be careful, in my opinion he has become a dangerous man."  
_

Her telephone buzzed and she wondered if it was Percy, reading her mind.

Agent Martin's voice came over the phone intercom. "Director, you have a call. She identified herself as Amanda, she said you would want to speak to her."

Barbara considered her options. "I'll take it." She picked up the receiver. "Hello Amanda. I'd ask how things are, but I've already heard that Percy's painted himself into a corner."

On the other end, Amanda smirked. "Do tell." She sounded confident and in control.

"I take it this is a follow up call?" The CIA Director sat down behind her desk.

"Barbara, I just want you to know that I," She paused to correct herself. "We, appreciate your help and I want to reiterate, you can count on us in return." Amanda's voice was smooth and silky.

The Director felt this was an empty promise. "My agents should be on-site any minute now. I'm told the Scientist is already dead, which is the cover story we're using. The CIA discovered he was kidnapped, and as a matter of national security, we went in to extract him. We're pulling your people out as well."

"And Ryan Fletcher?" Amanda asked curiously.

"Hopefully, he's smart enough to make himself scarce, I have strict orders from Oversight, he's still untouchable. Besides, he is the least of our concerns. We've recently been hearing quite a bit of chatter, about Gogol and Percy, is any of it true?"

Amanda was enjoying this conversation a little too much. "I can neither confirm or deny."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Does Percy know we have a CI inside Division?"

She was a wee bit condescending. "Really? This wasn't you being on top of your game? Would you like me to take a wild guess on who it is?"

Barbara sighed. "If you know, I'd make sure they are protected. Oversight has also made that clear."

Amanda was flippant. "I already spoke to the Senator and I understand. Tell her not to worry. " _Another mole_ , she thought to herself, reporting to the CIA, Percy should be worried.

Barbara sighed. "I'm taking tomorrow afternoon off. I'm getting a well deserved massage."

"That sounds delightful." Amanda hummed her approval. "Perhaps, someday we can meet and have a glass of wine, or maybe even have our nails done."

"Really Amanda, don't count on it." The line went dead.


	26. Maybe

Birkhoff imagined Percy was Lord Voldermort and his office was the chamber of doom. Considering what the last few days had been about, he didn't think he was over reacting. Standing in front of Division's leader, knowing his actions were akin to treason, wasn't someplace he would ever choose to be.

"Yeah Chief, you wanted to see me?" His behavior was skittish and he had a hard time standing still.

Percy sat behind his desk and seemed engrossed with his computer but answered curtly. "Someone's been talking to the CIA, any idea who?" He looked up at him with suspicion.

"Well, uh… uhm… really?" He stuttered over his words. "There are only a few people who have direct contact with Langley." He remembered what he had been taught… never admit anything.

"That's what I thought too." Percy leaned back in his chair looking perturbed. "Pull up the call logs for me. Especially any calls that Amanda's made, I want to know about it."

Birkhoff's eyes widened with disbelief and he thought there might be a God after all. "Seriously?" He shut himself up, knowing not to push his luck.

"Seriously is right… and I don't have to tell you how important this is. If she's leaking intel, I want to know, but here's the important part. I want to be the only one that knows."

Birkhoff mustered up as much authenticity as possible. "I got it Boss, for your eyes only."

Percy nodded. "I'm counting on you, don't let me down. And Birkhoff, the Public Library is a strange place to go when you're not feeling well." Percy gave him a funny look. "I make it a habit of checking everyone's tracker."

Birkhoff's internal relief quietly blew up in his head. "Yeah, I know, but I was feeling poorly and places like that… well, they make me feel almost normal."

Percy looked like he was considering what he said, before he went back to his computer. "Fair enough. Now get me that information."

"Right away." Birkhoff hurried out of Percy's office, maybe he had dodged this bullet and would live to see the light of day. He bypassed Operations and went to his private work area and plopped down in front of his computer station. Snippets of the conversation he had with the CIA Director came back to haunt him.

 _"You've put yourself at considerable risk, I can't guarantee your safety._ _Why are you doing this?" Barbara asked him after he had told her what Percy had been up to.  
_

 _Birkhoff was speechless for a moment. Then he thought about the sacrifices everyone around him had made. "I can't hide behind Percy's mantra that his only objective is for the greater good. There was a time I wanted to believe him, but I don't anymore."  
_

 _"I believe you, but that's not why you called me. Everyone has had a hand in this, Percy hasn't suddenly become the enemy." Barbara was blunt, she was looking for the real reason Birkhoff had contacted her._

 _"There are people out there that believe in things that I have turned a blind eye to. Some of them risk their lives everyday and for once, I just want to be on the right side." Birkhoff muttered out the confession._

 _Barbara sighed to herself. "A man with integrity, I just hope it doesn't get you killed."  
_

* * *

"You sure that doctor isn't going to alert the local authorities?" Owen looked over at Ryan, who was behind the wheel of Roan's vehicle, driving like mad man toward the Interstate. He continued ranting at him from the passenger seat of the car. "You are totally screwed, you know that, don't you?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Ryan answered defensively. "I flashed my CIA credentials at the clinic and he seemed to buy the story. The rest, I'll figure it out as we go along."

"Right, I suppose you'll want me to come bail you out when Tasarov calls on you to do his dirty work." Owen rambled on, he was foggy from the morphine that the doctor had given him.

"If you remember, you dragged me into this, I didn't ask you to show up and turn me into some Jason Bourne wannabe. I did what I thought was best, I wasn't going to let Division, or Gogol for that matter, let you die." He yelled back at him with frustration. "We agreed on our objective, and hopefully when she comes too, she'll be all right."

Owen looked contrite. "It's not like I don't appreciate what you've done for me, Nikita and Alex... Michael not so much... but Tasarov handed you a shovel and he's going to enjoy watching you dig your own grave."

"I did what I had to do." Ryan couldn't deny the truth in what he said, he didn't regret it, but he could worry about it. He changed lanes and passed a car, wanting to put as much distance between them and the cabin.

It was ironic, that only a few hours ago, the Russians were helping Ryan load Owen and Nikita into a vehicle. They wasted no time in leaving after Birkhoff texted him that a CIA retrieval team had been sent out to the cabin to save the Scientist and extract Division agents. The clock was ticking.

Ryan drove away from the cabin and as he sped down the road, he spotted another transport helicopter in the sky. The sight made him grimace and step on the gas a little harder. Thirty minutes later, he was pulling into a regional medical clinic. The staff on site looked horrified when they saw Owen, but diligently went to work on him.

The doctor had told the receptionist to call the Sherriff, but Ryan had stopped her by showing them his CIA credentials and giving him the main number to Langly and Percy's name. He knew the bureaucracy of the call would keep them busy for a long time.

He sat in the car with Nikita, who lay in the back seat, a blanket wrapped around her. She was asleep, still pale but breathing easier. When Owen's last stitches had been put in place, Ryan babbled on about national security, the threat of foreign terrorists and service to their country. He thanked the doctor for his help and abruptly left the clinic.

Owen looked over his shoulder, wincing in pain. Nikita looked considerably better. "Tell me again, what Tasarov told you."

Ryan looked grim. "He said the drug was designed as a brainwashing device, it would be given to a subject and they could be prompted to do something… promote their propaganda, steal secrets or even kill," He thought about Michael aiming his gun at Nikita and pulling the trigger. "Once the task was completed they could choose to let the subject suffer permanent brain damage or treat them with the antidote. Depending on how much they were given, the antidote was designed to wipe their memories of the event and the circumstances around it. The memory loss was unpredictable, but their inability to fully understand what had happened to them would deem them an unreliable source of information."

Tasarov's parting words still rang in his ear. "Gogol will be in touch with you. If you don't comply with our demands, we will kill someone every hour until you do. There will be innocent blood on your hands. Remember this Ryan, we both want to take Division down. Percy is ruthless, so we must be ruthless."

"We won't know what any of them will remember. According to Tasarov, Michael was given a massive dose, he's surprised he didn't kill her. It's possible his training may have enhanced his resistance." Ryan said thoughtfully.

"Or maybe, it was about Nikita." Owen mumbled.

Ryan looked over at him mirroring his thoughts. "Maybe."

* * *

The military issued helicopter airlifted the three surviving Division agents back to headquarters. Roan was taken into surgery to repair his collapsed lung. Michael was treated with I.V. antibiotics and he and Alex were given the same sedative to help them sleep away the effects of the drugs they had been subjected to.

Michael slept fitfully and even with the sleeping aid, he drifted in and out of consciousness. His eyes would flutter open and the ceiling tiles would remind him where he was. Back at Division, in Medical. Then he would close his eyes and he was someplace else.

 _"It's been over a week, nine days and we still haven't been able to locate her." Percy paced the floor of Operations, while Birkhoff tapped on his keys and Michael stood in the background with his arms folded across his chest._

 _Both Birkhoff and Percy saw the dark circles under Michael's eyes and his sallow complexion. He wore an empty and dejected expression and it was plain to see, when Nikita ran from Division, she took a piece of Michael with her._

 _"Are you giving up the search?" Michael asked pointedly._

 _"We've wasted too much time on her already. I'm pulling every agent off of this and leaving it in the hands of the NSA. She can be their problem for now." Percy answered harshly. "She's gone, and the sooner you accept it, the better off all of us will be."_

 _"She won't be found." Michael bristled with anger. "When you murdered Daniel Monroe, you killed any reason she had for staying in Division."  
_

 _Percy replied with a sneer. "I'd say you took care of killing off any reason for her to stay even before she met that web designer. You did the right thing Michael, she had become a distraction and distractions are problems in Division."_

He opened his eyes up with a start. When he realized where he was, he willed himself to breathe and bring his banging heart under control. It took a few moments, but he closed his eyes again. _ _ _  
___

 _Michael looked up at her with clarity. It was if he was seeing her for the first time. His head was in her lap and she gently stroked his forehead with her fingertips._

 _"I never lied to you and I never betrayed you. Please believe me." She pleaded._

"I believed you." He mumbled to himself, not sure if he was awake or dreaming.

 _"I didn't want to see you hurt, I couldn't loose you."_

"I know." Michael said to himself. "I couldn't loose you either... but I did." _  
_


	27. Trusting Memories

"How is our patient faring? Any permanent or residual damage?" Amanda approached Percy, who stood at the one-way viewing window to Alex's room in Division's Medical Unit. She followed his line of sight to the young agent sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. A technician pumped up a blood pressure cuff on her arm and watched the dial as it sprang up and slowly went down.

The tech gave her an encouraging look and Alex smiled back at him. Her eyes were clear and focused and her complexion had regained some color. She was dressed in the requisite gray recruit outfit and a new pair of cross training shoes.

"She seems to have made a quick recovery. I think she'll be as good as new. Any reason we should keep her here, maybe for another day?" Percy looked to Amanda for advice.

Amanda wrinkled her brow as she scrutinized Alex. "No, send her home. I'd recommend calling her in for a level one mission, you can see how she does."

Percy gave her an affirming nod. "Good, she's lucky she's new, if she had any important information squirreled away, it might have been terms for cancellation."

"You have no need to worry, she remembers what I've wanted her to remember, we had a nice chat before she was sedated. As far as she's concerned, extracting Michael from the scene proved more difficult, they encountered Russian hostiles, but manged to save him in the nick of time." Amanda gave Percy a small smile.

"She doesn't remember what happened to the retrieval team?"

"As far as Alex is concerned, it was the Russians, they gunned down their team, killed the Scientist and were torturing Michael. It was a good thing they arrived when they did."

Percy grinned. "Control the narrative."

They watched as the tech checked her pupils with a small pen light.

"Nikita? Does she remember anything about Nikita?"

"Nothing. Only that there may have been some evidence she was there, working with Tasarov."

Percy looked contrite. "You were right about Gogol. We should have never involved ourselves."

Amanda let the 'we' part go by. Underneath her cool demeanor she wanted to toss it back in his face, but she knew this wasn't the time.

"And, how is Michael?" Percy asked as they walked toward the adjacent medical room, they stopped at his one way window and found Birkhoff standing over him. Michael was relegated to his hospital bed. His vital signs were strong and he responded positively to the tests he received, but Amanda saw something odd, almost disturbing in his eyes.

"He's expected to make a full physical recovery, the tox screen shows he was pumped full of the psychotropic drug and the antidote. His short-term memory has been severely compromised. He doesn't even remember Roan's part in drugging him." An angry expression crossed Percy's face. "If it were anyone else but Michael, I'd cancel them here and now. Who knows what kind of information Gogol may have gleaned from him."

Amanda gave him a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't be too concerned. The only time he's weak and irrational is when it has to do with Nikita. Otherwise, he wouldn't betray Division. I'm sorry the plan you choreographed failed. Roan will be hard to replace, we'll have to accelerate the training on one of our senior candidates."

Percy nodded his head and looked glum. Roan's physical injuries would eventually heal, but his tox screen showed evidence of the psychotropic drug, but no antidote. Not only was Roan's memory destroyed, the neurologist they brought in felt his cognitive ability was severely damaged. Only time would tell if he would ever be able to formulate a clear thought or track a conversation again.

Percy held his hand up. "Sshh.." His attention was diverted toward Michael and Birkhoff. "I want to hear this."

"Like I said, you are looking better. When they brought you in, you looked more like Zombie Apocalypse than James Bond." Birkhoff hovered over him. "They wouldn't let me bring you a bottle of that hideously expensive Knob Creek Bourbon you like, so I brought you these." He handed him a package of Red Vines.

A rare smile crossed Michaels face. "Your concern is touching."

"Are you doing any better, you know with the memory thing?" Birkhoff was genuinely curious and seriously concerned.

The smile faded from Michael's face. "It feels like someone ripped out a few chapters in a book, I can imagine what it might say, but have no clear or confident memory if it really happened."

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"I woke up inside the cabin, my wrists and ankles were bound and… Michael paused and narrowed his eyes, straining to remember. "Voices. I heard two male voices, one was Ari Tasarov and the other, I think it may have been the Scientist we were sent in to extract." He looked up at Birkhoff with disbelief. "How did this happen? Gogol was there. My team gets slaughtered, Alex and I have our memories wiped and Roan… why was a Cleaner sent in?"

Birkhoff shrugged off the suspicious feeling that Michael had laid on him. "He was a weird choice to lead the retrieval team, but Percy must have had his reasons. Have you talked to Alex? She was on this same train wreck."

"No." His troubled look lingered. "I'm not sure it makes a difference. I read her de-brief, there were no surprises." He propped himself up in the bed and made a face, his cracked ribs feeling the pain. "Something weird went down in that cabin. I can feel it, I just can't see it."

Birkhoff did his best to sound reassuring. "I wouldn't sweat it. Gogol ambushed your team, they didn't get the codes and you were trippin' the light fantastic with some powerful drugs. What counts is they didn't get the best part of you. Here, have a red vine, you'll feel better."

Outside of the room, Percy raised his eyebrows at Amanda. "He's asking a lot of questions."

Amanda looked on with interest. "Birkhoff's giving him the right answers. I don't detect an immediate problem, however Michael has extraordinary deductive reasoning skills. He's a master of connecting the dots."

Percy nodded in agreement. "You'll keep an eye on him. We wouldn't want him jumping to any conclusions."

"I agree, but keep in mind he was given an extremely high dose of the psychotropic. I'm surprised he remembers his name." Amanda murmured as Birkhoff turned to leave. He gave them a surprised look as he walked by. Amanda hid her distaste for him, he was nervous, wary and feeling guilty and it showed up l

Birkhoff had weighed the consequences of telling Michael the truth. He deserved to know what Percy was up to but was afraid of what the truth would do to him. Michael was already a ticking time bomb and he didn't want to to be the reason he would detonate. Despite his anger at Percy and Amanda, Birkhoff kept what he knew to himself, for now.

Michael touched the stitches in the back of his head. Unlike the trauma to his ribs and the scar that would adorn his temple, he had no idea what had caused the gash. The feeling of conflict he lived with grew as he tried to rationalize what had happened.

The one thing he remembered was Nikita's voice over their Coms. _Two down, they're not going anywhere. I'm told more are coming. If you hurt the target, all hell will break loose._ She was there. He remembered being surprised and irritated by her presence. Nikita was there.

But when it came to the rest of the mission, he didn't trust his memories and it left him wondering.

* * *

Alex returned to her apartment, the effects of the drugs had worn off and although she felt slightly adrift, Amanda declared she was well enough to go home. Once inside, she removed the scanner from the false bottom of a kitchen drawer, making sure her apartment hadn't been bugged, and once satisfied she wasn't being watched she sighed with relief and sank down on her couch.

Like Michael, her short term memory had been affected. Up until she entered the cabin, she remembered what had happened. From there it became blurry and disconnected. Amanda had told her it was the Russians who had caused the Scientist's death and tortured Michael. She tried to make sense of what happened. She remembered fighting with someone and then a needle being stabbed into her neck. Amanda had insisted it was one of Tasarov's men.

Alex's memories were drowning in a sea of confusion. Nikita. What happened to Nikita? Had she been at the cabin when she went in? Amanda, Percy and even Michael never mentioned it. The Russian faces Amanda insisted were there were cloudy, their voices indistinguishable. When Birkhoff stopped by her room, he hardly spoke to her. She logically knew it was because he didn't want to blow their cover, but she was hungry for answers.

 _"Hey, you know what happened to my Coms? They aren't disposable!" Birkhoff scolded, acting surly and out of sorts._

 _"Sorry, it wasn't intentional." Alex answered defensively._

 _"Eyes and ears are what make this place as effective as it is. MY eyes and ears, you got that?"_ _He chided her._ _"I make a point of keeping track of my surveillance equipment." He nodded to the corner of the room where a small camera and mic were mounted on the ceiling. "They keep this place under control." The expression on his face was unreadable, but he discreetly brushed his hand over hers, hiding the gesture from the being recorded._

 _Alex felt some sense of relief. He had handed her a little piece of sanity._

 _"I'll keep that in mind. Are we done?" She gave him a cold look.  
_

 _"No way." He muttered as he walked out of the room.  
_

Alex knew she couldn't contact Birkhoff, any encounter would put them both in danger.

She found the burner she had hidden inside her lamp and texted Nikita's phone, but there was no reply. Next she tried Ryan's phone, nothing. Finally she texted Owen's phone, still no reply. She tried to convince herself that this meant Nikita would be all right.

The knock on her door startled her and she shook of the feeling of dread. She answered it and found Nathan standing in her doorway, a pleasant and carefree expression on his face.

"Hey I missed you. Another business trip?" He asked with just a tiny hint of sarcasm.

Alex tried to ignore the subtle jab. She experienced a pang of regret, Nathan was too good to be true and she was living a lie. "Yeah, it's been crazy." She stepped aside to let him in.

He looked at her with concern. "Alex, are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine now. I took some medicine and it didn't agree with me." She felt uncomfortable with her lies, but told herself it was necessary.

"Well if you need anything, don't forget, I'm right across the hall." He smiled at her and she felt that unfamiliar feeling of attraction mixed with guilt.

"Thanks Nathan, I just need to catch up on my sleep. Can we talk later?"

"Sure, I'll stop by and check up on you, or call me, okay?" He took her hand in his and caressed it before leaving.

Alex shut the door on him feeling confused and guilty. She tried again to reach Nikita, Ryan or Owen. She was feeling frustrated and her worry for Nikita was growing when her burner buzzed and an incoming call came in. She looked at it with relief before answering it.

* * *

"Nikita! Hey, Earth to Nikita!" Ryan said loudly. He walked over to the couch and handed her a steaming mug.

She took the cup of tea from his hands and thanked him with a smile.

"I need to go." He stated apologetically. "You don't need me to babysit anymore, I have to go home and back to Langley."

Ryan looked at her with resignation. She was the most complicated woman he had ever encountered. "I know you've been left with chunks of missing time, and not knowing what happened at that cabin will eat away at you. I really wish I could tell you what you need to hear, but all of us, Owen, Alex and even Michael have a different version based on our own personal filter. Nikita we have to move on."

She looked bitter. "I know what you're saying is logical, but I still don't understand what happened after Roan injected me with..." She looked away, her mind reaching for something to hold onto.

When Ryan brought Owen and Nikita back to the city, they went to Nikita's safe house. They had spent the last two days trying to make sense of what occurred at the cabin. Ryan was right, each one of them had their own take on the events, and no one had the complete story. They did their best to fill in the blanks, but it wasn't easy for the two men to explain what they saw between Nikita and Michael.

"Nikita, so much went down out there. All I know is we made it out of there alive." He looked at her earnestly.

"I'm sorry it went this far. Owen should have left you out of this."

He laughed. "You're so right, but it's too late now. I've seen too much and there's no turning the clock back."

"Someone once told me I had nine lives, but I think that honor should go to Owen." Nikita smirked but her eyes clouded over with concern.

Ryan saw the worried look in her face. Owen had left that morning with his arm in a sling and a morphine patch on his back. It was clear to all of them, he had to go. He was black ops and would always be on the fringes of society.

 _"London, I'm going back to London. I'm close to figuring out where the black box is and when I do, I'll call you." Owen had told them, gathering a few things in a small duffel bag.  
_

 _Ryan shook his hand, glad that Owen wasn't able to slap him on the back. "When I report back to Langley, Director Harrison will want to know and if she asks, you coerced me into helping you, I had no choice."_

 _"That's about right, Ry. I said please and you said thank you." He smirked at the lame joke. "You're not too bad for a pencil toting paper pusher."_

 _"And as for you, you aren't bad for a... face it Owen, you're just bad." They both laughed.  
_

Ryan sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "I promise you, Percy and Division will not get away with this."

She closed her eyes. fighting back a wave of emotion. "Ryan, sometimes I think this is all a mistake. I'm afraid that I'm going to get you killed. Alex too. She should have a life ahead of her. Why am I doing this?"

"Nikita, you should contact Alex. She may be feeling what you're feeling. You might be able to help each other." Ryan said soothingly.

She nodded her head in agreement. "It's not safe yet. In another day this mission will have become a statistic. Until then it's best we wait."

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I have to go. You will be all right. We all will."

* * *

Nathan went back to his apartment and locked the door behind him. He grabbed a beer out of his refrigerator, contemplating what he should do next, when his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D. and scowled.

"Hello?" He felt a stab of pain in his gut.

"How are you Nathan? Well I hope." The voice on the other end answered.

"I have nothing to report back. When I do, you'll be the first to know." He couldn't hide his annoyance.

"Good. I look forward to hearing from you. Soon." The call ended and left Nathan with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	28. Make Yourself at home

Another day had passed by before she contacted her. Nikita anxiously paced the floor of her loft and relief consumed her when Alex finally picked up.

"Alex?" Nikita huffed her name out emotionally.

"Thank God! I was really worried, are you all right? Where are you?" Alex rattled on nervously.

"At the loft. I'm okay, what about you?" Hearing her voice made Nikita realize what a precarious position she had put Alex in, yet again.

"I'm fine. Really. I heard from Owen, the call only lasted a minute, he told me you were okay, but he was on the run and distracted. When I didn't hear from you I got worried." Alex told her.

"Come over and I'll fill you in, I'm resetting your tracker so it looks like you're at home, and Alex… be careful." The past few days had reinforced Nikita's concern for her, she worried about her constantly, and now that she had been promoted to Agent, even more so.

"I will. You too."

Nikita set her phone down and crossed over to the expansive windows in her loft, it was mid morning and the streets had come alive with traffic and pedestrians. She stared out into the city, but instead of anonymous people and honking cars, she saw the faces of her friends, allies and enemies. Each one of them materialized and she had to ask herself the same question, had she gone to far?

Alex would always be in danger as a Division agent, and if their alliance were discovered, it would be a death sentence. Nikita wanted her to be safe, to have a future and the life any young woman deserved. Then, there was the issue about the night she had been rescued. She knew she would have to find a time to confront her with the truth and she despised herself for being a coward.

Ryan, she had come to understand, was about as honest a friend as she had ever had. She smiled to herself thinking about him. He was cute and sweet, an all American boy who she guessed wanted two point two children, a dog and a mini-van. It was a life that she could never imagine and a role she could never fulfill. Ryan helped Owen because she was in danger, and she would always be grateful, but that act might very well have become his demise.

When she thought about Owen, she knew he wanted to right the wrongs in his life. She might have hated him for killing Daniel, but who was she to pass judgement? Owen was a loose cannon, someone who communicated with his fists, and fists she could relate to. Their lives were about survival of the fittest, cheating death and now, redemption. Working with Nikita had turned his world upside down. He had become an outlaw, and try as she might to deny it, she knew she was responsible.

She easily dismissed thoughts of Percy and Amanda. They had become her enemy and she blamed them for what they had all become. It was the thought of proving them wrong and justifying her own acts that motivated her, but now the thought of killing them was enough to keep her going.

Nikita tried to shake off the dread that cornered her, but even as those pieces fell away, there was one piece she was unwilling to let go of. It was a dream, a wish and an impossibility because it held a promise of love and a future. She hated Percy for many reasons and among them was how he had caused her bond with Michael to crash and burn.

No matter what direction she followed, all paths led to the same place, and that place was with Michael by her side. These moments gripped her heart, with pleasure and pain.

 _When she walked into the hotel room, Michael gave her a look that would freeze hell over. "You had Ahkmedov on a short leash." He said harshly._

 _She was surprised to see this side of him, she hadn't expected him to act possessive, it reminded her that even in a dark hotel lounge in Tashkent, there were some things between them that had never changed.  
_

 _Nikita rolled her eyes. "He was an easy mark and so very predictable." She easily dismissed the bottle of Vodka they half consumed and the retrieval of his little blue pills, but it had put Michael in a sour mood.  
_

 _With Alex's help, Nikita had pinpointed Michael's location in Tashkent. She wasn't surprised to find him in Uzbekistan. Two days before, her source, Henry, had given her intel on Kasim Tariq. Michael was here to kill him and finally gain closure on the man who murdered his family, and Nikita was here to help him to do it._

 _"We have a lot of work to do, did you get the printer?" Nikita asked as she slipped off her heels._

 _"Yes, although finding a high speed printer after hours wasn't easy." Michael quickly reverted to being all about business._

 _She pulled her suitcase out and opened it. Tucked amongst her weapons were clothes and boots. She pulled out a pair of black leggings and tank top. She started to unzip the dress she wore, but stopped when she heard him mutter under his breath. "Make yourself at home."_

 _The snide remark made her feel self-conscious and she hurried into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, she emerged, changed into her version of work clothes, to find him downloading and printing out files._

 _She laid the documents out on the bed and tried to make sense of them. Thirty minutes later they had his hotel room drowning in paper and had pieced together Timur Ahkmedov's itinerary._

 _A knock at the door caused Nikita to pull out her Glock. Michael smirked at her and motioned with his hand to lower her weapon. He opened the door a crack and at the same time reached into his pocket and handed the man on the other side some bills before dismissing him._

 _He opened the door and pulled a room service cart inside, it was covered with plates of food, a pitcher of water and a bottle of red wine._

 _"Michael?" Nikita's stomach rumbled causing her cheeks to turn pink. "This wasn't necessary."_

 _"No, it is." He meant it to sound terse, but it came out as inviting._

 _A huge smile crossed her face when she saw the platter of salad covered with vegetables on the cart. "You remembered." She murmured, touched that he hadn't ordered her a lamb chop covered in gravy._

 _"You need to eat, I refuse to let your stomach blow your cover." He gave her a look that she coveted.  
_

 _They discussed Ahkmedov terrorist associates over their meal, and then settled on what it would take to kill Kasim over a glass of wine. The food and drink seemed to have tempered any ill will between them. Afterward he uncovered the bed by sweeping the documents into a pile. "You can stay here, with me, tonight."_

 _She couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face. "I have my own room, you don't have to…"_

 _Michael cut her off. "It's not safe, besides, we can talk about Percy and Amanda, they're still the ultimate in killing the mood." He looked at her with soulful eyes. "Please stay."_

 _If only things were different she thought to herself, but instead of dwelling on the topic, she stopped herself. She thought that no matter how angry and vengeful Michael was, he still needed her. "All right, you can sleep with Percy on your side of the bed and I'll take Amanda. Tomorrow will be a big day."_

 _Little did they know how big._

Nikita wondered if Michael would ever really forgive her for stopping him from killing Kasim. She knew she had no choice and if it came down to it, she would do it again. If Uzbekistan had taught her anything, it was Michael's ten year vendetta against Kasim, came before anything else, including her.

* * *

"What happened in your debrief with Amanda? What did you tell her?" Alex had arrived at Nikita's loft and after assurances they were both all right, they sat down across from each other to share information.

"What was really weird, is she usually harps on about family not keeping secrets, but this time she basically told me what I already knew." Alex rubbed her temples with her forefingers as she spoke.

"Let's go through it, step by step... okay? What's the last thing you remember?"

Alex squinted. "I got sent out to be part of the retrieval mission, to get Michael. Thanks to Birkhoff, I knew that Percy had sent Roan in to drug you. I had a metal box with two doses of the antidote, one for you and one for Michael. I texted Ryan to let him know." She strained to remember what came next.

"I remember Roan and Collins telling me to guard you. When they left, I tried to inject you with the antidote, but someone grabbed me from behind and I lost the syringe." Alex's eyes puddled up.

"I know I fought with him. Amanda said he was a Russian working with Ari Tasarov. He stuck me in the neck. They busted up Roan and killed the others."

"Not good." Nikita whispered.

"Nikita, it's all a blur, I don't know what really happened to me. I know you were there, and then I woke up in Division."

"I don't really remember much after we split up in the woods. I went to the cabin and the Russians were there, they got the drop on me. I saw Michael inside the cabin, and that's all I remember until I woke up in the backseat of a car."

Alex nodded at her. "It was Ryan and Owen, wasn't it?" She knit her brow. "Why would the Russians let us go? How could they have known there was a CIA retrieval team deployed to rescue us and who tipped off the CIA anyway?"

Nikita smirked. "Percy must have loved that. Ryan got the word the CIA boys were coming for us, but he didn't tip them off. He told me that he found us and the Russians were out of there in a second. He gave all three of us the antidote, and took Owen and I away. Owen was wounded and he got him medical treatment." Nikita looked thoughtful, understanding how much risk the CIA Analyst had put himself under.

"Then who tipped off the CIA?"

The two women looked at each other. "Birkhoff?" They said in unison.

"Alex, do you trust him?"

"Yeah, I do. If he wanted to give me up to Percy or Amanda, he could have. Instead, he gave us the intel we needed to piece together what was going down. Nikita, he knows I'm working with you."

"If you have any doubts about him betraying you... us, then you have to walk away." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I expected him to help you out of loyalty to Michael."

"I know, and he saved us."

"How's Michael doing?" Nikita asked, averting her eyes from Alex. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, he seems to be, but he remembers less than either of us." Alex looked wistful.

Like Amanda, Nikita knew Michael would work any puzzle until he had a clear picture. "I think he was ready to kill me." The look on her face broke Alex's heart.

"Nikita, if Michael wanted to kill you, you would be dead."


	29. Match Game

Nathan Colville sauntered into the cocktail lounge through the back alley entrance. Inside, it was dark and subdued, the tables were empty and the few patrons at the bar were cloaked in anonymity and stared into their drinks. The lack of interaction was noticeable.

He slid into a corner booth and the high backs on the seats hid him from view. An overly made up waitress walked up with two shot glasses and a bottle of Vodka, she set them down in front of Nathan and a man who occupied the seat across the table.

Nathan appeared sullen, and he hunched over his glass and mumbled a thank you to the waitress. He took a healthy swallow from the glass before leaning back into the shadows. His companion sat across from him with a pleasant look on his face. He wore tinted glasses and his hair was hidden under a brown felt fedora.

He smirked at the young man and tipped his own glass back and enjoyed the refreshing burn of the Vodka. He carefully and deliberately took an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table.

"Why the glum face? These symbiotic relationships are important, mutually beneficial and in your case monetarily rewarding." He gave him a knowing smile.

Nathan slid the envelope off the edge of the table and picked it up. He peeked inside and eight crisp one hundred dollar bills looked back at him. "You're right." He gave the man an insincere smile and tucked the envelope into his own pocket.

"Besides the guy from work, I haven't learned anything." He had already told him about Birkhoff's visit to Alex's apartment.

"Does she still trust you? It's the element in your relationship that will help your cause along." The man finished his shot glass and refilled both their glasses.

"I think she does. Although she seems interested in this Birkhoff guy, which I totally don't get." The idea made Nathan scowl.

"I wouldn't worry." He found this jealous streak entertaining. "Stability and hope. That's what she needs. She will confide in you, if you prove yourself."

Nathan inwardly sighed. "She seems like a really nice girl, a nice girl with secrets. We had an agreement, right? She doesn't get hurt."

"That's correct." He tapped his fingers against the table. "What about phone calls?"

Nathan finished his drink. "She never uses the phone in front of me, she always tells the caller she'll get back to them. When she came back from her trip, she sort of shut me out and after I left, I listened at the door and heard her talking on the phone."

"Nathan, names would be useful to me." The man pointed out the obvious.

"I think it was Orrin or Owen, anyway she sounded excited. She didn't leave until this morning, I followed her like you asked, but I was afraid she would see me and I lost her in the lower east side." Nathan paused a moment before asking the question he never got an answer to. "What kind of trouble is she in?"

"It's in your best interest not to know, and not to ask." His tone became stern and he sensed this was as much as she was going to get out of him.

"Time for you to go. I'll be in touch." He dismissed him with a tilt of his head.

Nathan slid out of the booth and left the way he came in.

The man in the brown fedora waited, making sure his informant was gone. He took out his cell phone and placed a call.

"I just met with Mr. Colville, unfortunately I have nothing new to report." He paused, listening carefully.

"I believe he is trustworthy, and if he proves otherwise, I will take care of it." He said reassuringly, however in this next breath his tone changed. "Are you sure it wouldn't make more sense to eliminate the problem then paying off this _Zadrota_?"

Sergei Semak pushed himself away from the two hundred year old oak desk in his office at Zetrov. "That would be premature and in the meantime, Alexandra might be useful. It seems both Division and Gogol may think so too.

* * *

"You're quite sure?" Tasarov questioned the technician. He and a man in a white lab coat studied two large pieces of film that housed the DNA sequence of its owners.

It was after dark and everyone except for the head of the department and two Russians had left the laboratory. Tasarov had made it worth his while to stay.

"The sample we had on Nikolai Udinov and the one you brought us is an eighty percent conclusive match. I can say with confidence, they are related."

Tasarov nodded his head in approval. "This is interesting news. Interesting enough that we must request one hundred percent containment on this issue."

The technician looked confused. "Of course, we adhere to strict confidentiality rules."

The Russian nodded his head and Illya pulled out a small caliber gun. He grabbed the lab tech around his neck and put a bullet into the surprised man's temple. Illya let him drop to the ground and cursed when he saw blood splatters on his coat. Tasarov took the negatives out of the dead man's hand and tucked them into his coat pocket.

"So do we." He muttered to himself, and took out his pocket handkerchief and picked up the gun, wiping it clean of prints, before placing it in the dead man's hand.

He followed Illya outside of the lab, the two men took care that no one noticed them, before joining Andrei in the black town car.

Tasarov's phone rang and when he saw who the caller was, he smiled. "Good evening Nathan, it's good of you to call."

 


	30. Another Universe

_Michael, Hi. What are you doing here?" Nikita was genuinely surprised to see him in the corridor, leaning against the wall. She hadn't exactly snuck up on him, but it was obvious he wasn't expecting to see her._

 _"Waiting." He said cryptically, looking slightly uncomfortable._

 _Her curiosity was peaked when she realized he appeared to be watching the door. Division had guards for that and Michael was no guard. "For what?"_

 _He suppressed the urge to smile. His eyes gave him away and she realized he wasn't wearing his 'oh so serious' facade. He straightened himself up did his best to look stern. "Nikita, for once, I'd appreciate it if you'd just mind your own business."_

 _She took no offense because she knew he was teasing her or maybe testing her. "What's behind that door? What are you hiding?" She took a step toward him._

 _His eyes twinkled as he stepped between her and the door. "Where do you think you're going?" Their close proximity put their pheromones in overdrive and he silently groaned to himself._

 _"Is there some highly classified top secret meeting going on?" They both knew this had nothing to do with national security. At this moment, it had to do with this flirtatious dance that they found themselves engaging in more often than not._

 _He felt that subtle pull that both of them never talked about. She was a recruit on the verge of being promoted to agent status. She had proven herself to be smart and competent and he had helped transform her from a girl with a rough past to a beautiful woman._

 _He leaned forward and the words left his lips and drifted across the side of her face. "Nikita, you should go. This is… sensitive." He enunciated the word carefully and transfixed her with his eyes._

 _This was something else they both knew was dangerous. Acting on this attraction was forbidden and had consequences. If it had been strictly physical, maybe someone with Michael's status would have gotten away with it, but this was more than physical, they had developed a friendship and connection._

 _She cast caution aside and purposely brushed her hand against his, her finger tips sliding down his palm. The contact sent a current rippling through him, but the moment was interrupted when they heard a knock on the door from the inside of the room._

 _Michael shook his head at her. "This is between us… no one else needs to know." He warned._

 _Nikita looked as if she missed the punch line, she stepped back and Michael turned the handle and the door swung open. A pretty young woman, who was one of the Amanda's assistants in Division's wardrobe department, walked out. She had a rumpled appearance and a mischievous look about her, but her eyes grew wide when she saw Nikita. She looked up at Michael and he dismissed her with a nod of her head. Her face turned red and she looked flustered, before hurrying away down the hall._

 _"Michael? What the hell is…" but Nikita was unable to finish the sentence because a sheepish looking Birkhoff appeared in the doorway._

 _Birkhoff looked at Nikita and then at Michael. "You selling tickets or something?"_

 _Michael glowered at him. "Go!"_

 _Birkhoff started walking. "Thanks Man, I owe you." He mumbled over his shoulder._

 _Michael turned to Nikita, his voice was low and he purposely spoke slowly. "Privacy isn't in abundance around here. If we lived in a different Universe, a sock on the door might have worked… but this is Division."_

 _Nikita seemed shocked at this college boy mentality. Birkhoff was one thing, but Michael? This was different, and different seemed to have given her courage._

 _She looked at him brazenly. "Socks, huh? I'll remember one... for next time."_

"Hey! You still with me?" Birkhoff's voice abruptly shut down his rambling train of thought.

"Sorry, say again." He did his best to look attentive but the lapse in his concentration was evident.

"Look man, it wasn't important, but what is important is you're gonna space out at the wrong time and it'll cause you major problems, especially if the _parents_ are in the room." Birkhoff admonished. He knew what Michael had gone through and he felt really bad seeing him this way. Yet, he kept his part in the debacle under wraps.

Michael replied by giving him a dark look and folding his arms across his chest. He knew Birkhoff was right and though he lived in constant denial, he wasn't stupid. He vowed to get his act together.

"Mummy, would like a word with you, in my office." Amanda said sarcastically. She had seemingly come out of nowhere and stood just inside the doorway of Operations. She glared at the two men.

Birkhoff turned ghostly white and gave her a nervous smile. "You know I was just kidding…"

Amanda cut him off. "Careful, you're headed for a time out." She said harshly.

Michael gave them both an ambivalent look before leaving the room with Amanda on his heels.

Birkhoff watched them exit. _What you don't know can't come back to bite you in the ass,_ had become his mantra.

She followed him into her office and motioned toward the white sofa. "Please, sit."

Michael resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. Instead, he stood like a soldier. "If you have something to tell me, or, if there is something you'd like me to hear, you have my attention."

Amanda gave him a motherly look. "Michael, I'm concerned. We haven't seen you like this, well, not in a long time. I know the incident at the lake front property was disturbing, however, there seems to be something else on your mind."

Underneath Michael's calm demeanor, he fumed. "Not really. If you've forgotten, my memory's been wiped clean." Try as he might, he couldn't avoid the subject of a personal involvement with Nikita, and it seemed this subject would always be at the top of Amanda's list, like now.

"Michael, Nikita has tampered and toyed with your feelings. We have been telling you this all along. She is not the troubled young woman you trained to be an exceptional Operative. She killed the Scientist and our Agents and is a traitor not only to Division, but to our country. She has ties with Gogol, and don't forget, she interfered with your mission in Tashkent. Isn't that enough proof for you?"

The words stung more than he would like to admit. "Is that all?" He asked dismissively.

Amanda looked at him with sympathy. "Whenever you want to discuss this, let me know."

He nodded and walked out of her office, not willing to let her know how angry and confused he felt. Half way to the elevator he ran into Birkhoff.

Birkhoff stood in his way. "Michael, I know you're no fool, just deal with it."

Michael snarled back at him. "I'm used to it, Amanda's psychological mind games aren't anything I can't handle."

Birkhoff looked at him and shook his head. "That's not what I mean. I'm talking about Nikita. Whatever she was to you, don't forget, you're still on opposite sides."

Michael knew this all too well. "Is there anything else?" He had learned that talking about it never helped.

"Yeah, Percy wants to see you. It's time to Nikita-proof Division."


	31. The Song Remains the Same

He felt like punching him. Being chastised by his supervisor in the basement bullpen at CIA Headquarters was testing his limits, but he resisted the urge to haul off and hit the bureaucrat. However, having worked with men and women with the _by-the-book and black and white_ mind set for many years, Ryan took it like a man. He muttered a response humbly and went back to his workstation.

He imagined to himself, how much he would enjoy explaining, in so many words, that he missed almost an entire week of work, not because he had a migraine or the flu, but because he was working with rogue black ops agents who were involved with Russian mercenaries going after government secrets. Knowing the truth eased his pain, and reminded him this was much bigger than anyone at the CIA could imagine.

Nothing in his life would ever return to normal, but being back at Langley at a job he despised seemed almost normal. After all, only a day had gone by since he had left Nikita to fend for herself. Like a victim in a bad soap opera, he left her, feeling empty. He thought that any man who came in contact with Nikita would feel what he felt, it was called wishful thinking.

He sat down and settled himself back at his desk and concentrated on the task at hand. He booted up his computer and checked his email and opened the folder that contained his directives. It was filled with more of the same. He would be monitoring former cold war sub-stations with an emphasis on Berlin. It was tedious at best.

Ryan sighed quietly to himself. The next step was to catch up on some of the operations that were going down in the area. His search would be limited, knowing he would be blocked access to any files that required a high level of clearance. One item caught his attention and he bookmarked it in the system. It was an Internet forum run by a splinter group out of Eastern Europe that had ties to the anti-globalization movement. Although these anarchists were mostly crackpots anytime the phrase "dirty bomb" came up was cause for concern, and when it was paired with Gogol he knew it was important.

He had no access to the CIA offices overseas, and was blocked from seeing reports from an American Agent in Berlin named Christopher Conahan. Somehow Conahan had an association with someone named Juergen. Ryan made a note to himself to come back to this. In the meantime, he had a dozen other files to analyze.

* * *

London, with its gray skies and constant drizzle, felt melancholy to Owen as he crossed the Tube platform and caught the train to Camden. He had arrived back in the U.K. feeling slightly defeated and unusually anxious. The mission at the lake front cabin went nothing like he thought. Everyone had been compromised to some extent and although they saved Nikita, he still felt depressed by the outcome.

He quickly walked to the recently condemned and derelict building where he had set up his base of operations. The flat was more than run down but he only cared about the location. Using his own Guardian protocol as a guide, he narrowed down the location of the Black Box and it's keeper to this part of the city, it was only a matter of time before he was found.

In the beginning, Owen obsessed over Emily's death. He blamed himself for not protecting her and his hatred for Division continued to grow. When he worked for Percy as a Cleaner, he thought of it as a necessary and important job. He prided himself on being detached and his ability to accomplish these unpleasant missions made him a valuable asset. He chose not to ask unnecessary questions and this pleased Percy. It was Emily that forced him to think differently.

Now, he was haunted by his victims. He saw them as people with lives, not just as collateral damage. The more he thought about it, the more he realized you can't hide from your wrong doings, you have to face them. Nikita was living proof that. She was doing the impossible, going after Percy and Division. Before he left her and Ryan, he let them both know, they wouldn't have to do this alone.

He grimaced to himself, he felt another headache coming on, they seemed to be coming more often and the pain was more severe. Owen knew, much of what he was feeling had to do with his dwindling supply of steroids and dextroamphetamines. He had rationed the metabolic dominance program in hopes that he could wean himself off of them, but he recognized the symptoms of drug withdrawal.

He took a small amount of each drug and hid the rest under a loose floorboard. He flopped himself down on the cot in the room and stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, he had an idea. He couldn't remember his victim's names, but thinking about each one brought back a memory and an image. Each one of these memories he would transfer to paper, and each time he saw that paper it would remind him why he was in this fight.

The first one would be a butterfly. It would always remind him of Emily.

* * *

Walking through the hallway toward her apartment, Alex looked over at Nathan's door. He had an uncanny way of knowing when she would be home and it seemed he would pop out of his apartment at any moment. Today there was no tall and handsomely boyish young man smiling down on her and she felt a little dejected by his absence.

Alex was so far away from being a typical young woman, except for one thing. The need to connect. Nikita had become a mainstay in her life, someone who knew her and who she had common goals with. She had taught her to be wary of everyone, to never trust another, but she never invited her to a party or out to see live music, like Nathan had. She thought he was everything she could ever want in a man and she fantasized about being his girlfriend.

When she let herself into her apartment, she dropped her purse and simultaneously pulled out her weapon. She pointed it at the intruder who was standing next to her dining room table.

Birkhoff froze on the spot and prayed she wouldn't shoot him.

* * *

 _"Michael, don't do this… The minute you get past security, they'll cut you down… its suicide!" Nikita begged him to listen to reason._

" _It's why I have to do this alone, by myself." Michael spoke just above a whisper and his voice was filled with emotion._

" _Michael! Michael… listen to me! Your think you don't have something to live for? You do, you have me. Please Michael." Nikita pleaded with him. She was desperate and feared for his life._

" _Say it." He whispered back to her. "If you really care, say it." Michael stood in the men's room at the airport, he had made a shiv out of a broken whiskey bottle and clutched it in his hand._

" _I don't have to." Nikita murmured. "You know it, we both know it. I've loved you for a very long time." The tears rolled down her face._

 _Michael stared at himself in the mirror. He dropped the jagged piece of glass into the sink and braced his hands on the counter. "If you truly mean it, then come and get me." He choked out the words._

" _I'm almost to the terminal. Michael, please, don't do anything right now. When the time comes, I will help you get Kasim. I promise you." She still felt worried, but behind it was a joy that she only wished she could ever experience. "Michael?"_

" _I'm here. Nikita... listen to me... you're not alone anymore. You're with me and nothing can change that." The words rushed straight to her heart._

" _I'm inside, Michael, where are you?" She had scrambled out of the car and ran toward the front door of the terminal. Once inside she searched for him. She caught site of him, walking toward her.  
_

" _Nikita!" He said breathlessly. "I love…" but three soldiers interrupted him with a spray of machine gun fire._

" _MICHAEL!" She screamed._

Nikita bolted upright in the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest with fear and panic. It took her a few seconds to realize it had all been a nightmare. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and took deep breath, trying to calm herself. Once the adrenalin in her system started to subside, she lay back down and wrapped her arms around her pillow, and cried.


	32. Act III

"Birkhoff?"

"I'm sorry." He stood there wincing and staring at the gun pointed at him. "I didn't want to break in, but it's not like I could wait out in the hallway for you. That boyfriend of yours, he's keeping tabs on you."

"You mean Nathan? We're just friends…" The look on his face made Alex stop. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because of what's happened, with you and Nikita, and with us. Would you put the gun down?" He implored, still eying the .38 in her hand.

She lowered her weapon and motioned for him to sit down. "I know what happened. I remember enough to understand what went down." Alex replied weakly and walked toward him and set her gun on the table. She sat down across from him.

"Alex, I never meant to get involved in any of this. I was a fool to leak intel to Owen, I thought I was being selective and careful. I was angry at Percy and this was a way to get back at him, but I didn't expect Owen to go all cowboy and show up here. It wasn't supposed to lead to this and I can't… won't be a part of this anymore." He looked at her earnestly and honestly, but with a little bit of shame.

"It's too late, don't you think? I know, and Ryan and Owen know. You helped us."

"Yeah, that's right and you three are the only ones that know. I'm not ready to become a pile of ashes left unclaimed at a crematorium of Percy's choice. If you don't back off, I either burn or I turn you over to Percy and Amanda. If Owen or Fletcher contact you, tell them I'll turn you in if they try and contact me." He tried to deliver his ultimatum in a threatening manner, but it came out more desperate than dangerous.

Alex's eyes grew wide. "All right, but you know you did what was right. You know that helping us save Michael and Nikita, was the right thing to do. You saved me too."

Birkhoff stood up with an uncomfortable look on his face. "I got no love for Division, but I'm a part of it, for better or for worse. I am no help to anyone, including you three if I'm dead. Whatever you may think and no matter what any of us do, Michael and Nikita's fate is in their hands." He stood up and edged this way toward the door.

"I think they care about each other." She blurted out.

He had his back to her, but turned around with a smirk on his face. "Of course they do." His expression faded into something more serious. "I'm sorry Alex, but this is the way it has to be."

She nodded her head in resignation, she didn't like it, but right now she had no choice but to agree. She knew he had put himself out there to help them. "Birkhoff, thank you."

"You're welcome." He looked at her timidly. "There's one more thing, you're gonna be called in. It has to do with royalty and jewels at some museum, but this time it'll be Steven running the show. Michael's laying low, Percy has him sealing every crack in Division with Nikita resistant caulk." He opened the door and peeked out before exiting.

Whatever it was they had between them shouldn't have existed in the first place. Even though their roles and their loyalties were blurred, they both knew there was something there. It was the kind of friendship that opposites often attract in each other, it was seeing beyond the surface and knowing what makes the other person special. Birkhoff was sorry to have snuffed out the spark he felt for her and Alex watched him leave with a wistful look on her face and in her heart.

* * *

Ari Tasarov pressed the stop button on his computer's audio and leaned back in his chair. "Interesting conversation, it's a shame, can no one be trusted?" He scoffed while reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the table and pouring himself a drink. "Lucky for us, Alexandra did not take the time to scan her apartment for the bug Nathan planted. Instruct him to make sure it is removed before she discovers it."

Andrei stood over him, a perplexed look on his face. "Are you going to turn her over to Semak? He knows she is alive."

"Sergei Semak has only recently found out that young Ms. Udinov is still alive. When she disappears, Zetrov will pay a pretty penny to us when we help them find her, and Gogol and Zetrov will be on good terms once again." Tasarov voice boomed with satisfaction and he finished his drink.

"Besides, it appears she will be doing Division's dirty work again soon. My intel in Eastern Europe says that General Zahidov of Georgia is setting his sites on a coup. They've gone to Division for assistance. Percy is such a pushover."

"That's right, Princess Kristina of Georgia is bringing the crown jewels to the United States and showing them at the Museum." Illya added, peering over the magazine he had in his hands.

"What next? We just wait?" Andrei still wore the uncertain look on his face.

Tasarov appreciated the bulky man's loyalty, even though he was dim. "Remember, patience."

He looked over at Illya. "So what reports are you getting from our friends in Chechnya?"

Illya set his magazine down. "Kasim is happy with the arrangement. He has already deposited our fee into the account. We've cleared a passage for his trucks, and their shipments of Heroin, are getting through with ease."

Tasarov nodded. "Very good. Next order of business… I want to set up a meeting with our friend the arms dealer, Juergen."

* * *

"Michael, I know you've gone through a lot these past few days, so I'm having Steven run this operation. However, I want you to understand, these missions keep Division solvent, and whether you approve or not, is irrelevant." Percy tried to appear serious but it came out as patronizing.

Michael resisted the urge to argue with him. "I understand."

"I need to know I can count on you. We are on the same side, and don't forget, I will help you find Kasim." He responded emphatically.

"You have no cause for concern." Michael offered, refusing to say more.

"Good!" Percy stated with flourish. He studied his second in command carefully, looking for signs of weakness. "And, Nikita?"

"I intend to fulfill my duty." Michael said calmly. "I won't let her manipulate me again." He said resolutely.

"We have it from a solid source that she has been in contact with Gogol and Tasarov, not once but twice. She is working with Gogol and they are working with Kasim Tariq. They think they can take us down, but their wrong!" Percy barked. "Just remember who your friends are and who you can trust."

Accusations against Nikita were nothing new, he had heard them all, but when Percy mentioned Kasim, an involuntary reflex caused him to cringe.

"Of course." He wandered toward the door and let himself out at the same time Amanda walked through the side door to Percy's office.

"You were listening?" Percy asked.

She folded her arms in front of her and acknowledged him with slight nod. "Yes."

"Any thoughts? You're usually very forthcoming."

Amanda shrugged. "He's reaching his limit. If you keep pushing, he may implode, or worse, explode. He will eventually learn the truth about Kasim. What will you do then?"

"That is highly unlikely." Percy answered abruptly.

She looked at him pointedly. "I sincerely hope you're right."


	33. Curtain Falls

Chalk one up for the good guys. Division's mission to assassinate Prince Erik of Georgia had failed. Between Nikita's interference and Alex's quick thinking they were able to rescue him and his true love Leila. Princess Kristina and her cohort, Zahidov had been taken into custody by the State Department and turned over to the Georgian government, while Steven's team was rounded up by Division agents posing as FBI. It was just as Nikita had predicted.

The next day, Nikita and Alex allowed themselves to rest on their laurels and celebrate. They sat in her loft and watched the news and were both in high spirits. It was only Michael's call to Alex that tempered their glee. Always cautious, Nikita eventually asked Alex to go home. This was a good victory, but there was still much more work ahead of them.

It had been another close call and both women were lucky to have escaped unscathed. Nikita only suffered a small cut to her leg and it would heal quickly, another battle scar fighting Division. On the outside she was leathery tough and her resolve was unbreakable, but inside, she and Michael had inflicted wounds upon each other that had yet to heal.

When she was trapped inside of the museum and heard Michael's voice through the two way radio, it jerked her senses and made her feel vulnerable. Her interactions with him were rarely witnessed by others, and when she saw the sympathy on Prince Erik's face, it reminded her that not every difficult relationship needed to end in hand to hand combat.

Thinking about Michael's low growl evoked certain feelings in her. It wasn't logical, sensible or predictable. It just was. She closed her eyes and imagined being back in the lake front cabin. All she wanted were her memories, but there was nothing. What was stuck in her mind was Ryan telling her that Michael intended to kill her, but for whatever reason, he missed.

She held another glass of wine in her hand, hoping it would help settle the fire inside of her and sat back in her chair. Solitude made it easy to stare inwardly at herself.

 _In the beginning, Nikita could only imagine herself wearing a pair of faded denim jeans and ratty t-shirts with a prized leather motorcycle jacket hanging on her small frame. She cut her own hair, but learned not to do it when she was high, and never to let one of the bitches that hung around her dealer, anywhere near the sewing shears. She wore stolen drugstore make up and doused herself in cheap cologne. Sometimes she teetered on platform heels, but she never had a pair that fit correctly so they were abandoned aside for her high laced Doc Marten's or dime store flip flops._

 _When Amanda got a hold of her, Nikita fought violently against the head of Division's charm school, so much so, she had to be sedated with Valium to keep her under control. Amanda gave her choices, either she cooperates or the guards would strip her down and scrub her clean. Understand the process and the goals, or suffer the consequences and if necessary, disappear permanently. Thus, her love-hate relationship with Amanda began._

 _Nikita vaguely remembered having her hair washed, conditioned and cut. Her nails were dirty and unkempt and she suffered through her first manicure and pedicure. Amanda stood over her as she had her legs waxed and her eyebrows plucked, and then she attacked Nikita like she was a blank canvas. It didn't take much, because underneath the grime and disappointment was a lovely young woman._

 _Once she quit fighting, the tranqs were no longer necessary, and her real training began. Amanda took it upon herself to rebuild the crumpled drug addicted girl. This was a challenge she would enjoy, but she could not do it alone. Looks, manners and feminine wiles were Amanda's forte, but for the rest it was up to Michael._

 _A white clothed table with fine china and silverware had been laid out in one of Division's training rooms. A nervous looking recruit named Jack escorted Nikita in on his arm. He was dressed in an expensive pair of slacks and his jacket was tailored to his broad shoulders._

 _"Relax, and don't fuck this up for me." Nikita said out of the corner of her mouth._

 _Amanda raised her eyebrows and made a note in her book. Nikita cursed to herself, she still struggled with appropriate vocabulary._

 _She wore the quintessential little black dress, the staple of every women's wardrobe, according to the Goddess Amanda. It clung to her slim frame and showed enough cleavage and leg to be alluring without being gauche. Gauche was a huge turn off for Amanda._

 _After much trial and error, Nikita found the perfect pair of shoes. Comfortable would have been a stretch, but wearable and tolerable were not. She walked confidently in the stiletto heels and they gave the illusion that her legs never ended._

 _Her hair was simply coiffed, her make up sheer and fresh and she looked every bit the classy lady that Amanda had envisioned._

 _Jack pulled her chair out and Nikita sat down, keeping her knees together and her back straight. Her escort then seated himself across from her. A moment later another recruit posing as a waiter approached the table and handed them menus. Jack ordered drinks and appetizers, while they both pretended they weren't being watched._

 _"Well, what do you think?" Amanda directed the question toward Percy. They watched from the sidelines as they were served their drinks and a plate with tiny canapés was put in front of them._

 _"A job well done. She looks terrific and under your tutelage, she'll become the honey trap we've been lacking in our stable." Percy smirk was a beat away from a leer._

 _"Michael, what's your opinion." Amanda asked suggestively._

 _Michael looked at the beautiful young woman with the infectious smile and bright eyes. "I would agree with Percy." He said quietly._

 _Nikita looked over and caught Michael's eye for a few seconds, what she saw was something more than approval, but when he broke the eye contact she wondered if it was just her imagination._

 _Percy checked his watch. "I have a call with Oversight." He directed his comments to Michael as he walked away. "Field work. She needs to get out and get some on the job training."_

 _"She's not ready." Michael grumbled under his breath._

 _"Well then, you have your work cut out for you." Amanda said with a self-assured smile. "She has her flaws, but I think she's ready for a provisional mission. Perhaps, Victor Han might be a good choice."_

 _Michael looked away from Nikita and toward Amanda and nodded. "We have some time before that goes down. I'll keep it in mind."_

 _"Michael, you know you're being tested as well. If you want to solidify your role as Percy's second in command, you'll have to prove you can handle your material." Amanda took enjoyment at watching the uncomfortable look in his eye._

 _Michael silently nodded. He had only been part of Division for a little over three years, but they all knew he was very capable._

 _Amanda interrupted Nikita and Jack as they drank their water downed cocktails and chatted about nothing. "I think that's enough. In the next day or two, I'll sit down with you one on one and we'll discuss your weaknesses. In the meantime, you can go back to your training."_

 _Nikita scooted her chair back and stood up. "Great, I really need to kick some ass after all this up-tightness."_

 _Amanda rolled her eyes, but Michael smiled at her, and this time she knew what she saw, and it wasn't her imagination._

Nikita's computer alert startled her out of the past and back into the midst of her reality. She was still alone.

* * *

Something inside of him knew things weren't right with Alex. Even before he reviewed the recent mission tapes, a feeling would come over him. It nagged at him until he focused on the events that led him to doubt her honesty, but he would always be able to reconcile, in his own mind, that all was well. Except for now. He stared at the video on the computer terminal in front of him observing the concerned look on her face as she talked to Nikita through the bluetooth com unit that Princess Kristina's assistant, Leila, had handed to her.

He intuitively knew that Nikita was involved, but he needed more than a hunch to take action. Percy's lecture on trust had rattled him. Michael closed his eyes and contemplated what his suspicions might mean. Division had so many avenues for deceit and their leader was the master of them. His mind began to wander and he became lost in his own thoughts.

 _"That's exactly right." Percy said emphatically. "It's for the greater good. In today's world we don't have the luxury of picking and choosing our enemies, we must strike when the opportunity arises, and yes, there will be collateral damage, but it is completely necessary."_

 _Nikita stood in front of him, straight and tall with her hands folded in front of her. "I understand, Sir." She murmured, struggling to say the words clearly._

 _"I'm glad we agree, however you will be reprimanded for your actions" He said with an arrogant smugness. "You can go, but Michael... stay."_

 _Nikita looked at Michael out of the corner of her eye before she hurried to the door to let herself out. He kept his hardened demeanor in place and looked at Percy in the eyes._

 _"Michael, let me come right to the point. I think you should sleep with her." Percy announced bluntly._

 _Michael expected a dressing down, not for saving a dozen innocent lives, but for breaking protocol. Percy's encouragement to sleep with Nikita was, needless to say, quite a surprise._

 _"What are you talking about?" He tried to hide the agitation that Percy caused in him._

 _Percy looked nonchalant. "There seems to be some unresolved sexual tension between the two of you and that can hamper your effectiveness as a team." Percy looked for some kind of reaction from him._

 _"You're wrong. The undercover missions you send us out on may be deluding you into thinking that, but there is nothing between us." Michael was his own master at keeping himself composed, even though he wanted to strangle his superior._

 _Percy saw the vein in his forehead pulsate. "No need to get all touchy about it. If that's the case, why don't you have a romp between the sheets with her...no strings attached. I insist." He looked at him with an evil grin._

 _Michael answered him slowly. "Is that an order?"_

 _"Oh come on Michael, you know you want to... you can tell me about it afterward and maybe I'll take a turn too." Percy oozed contempt._

 _Michael knew when he was being baited. "While I take much of what you say with a grain of salt, that is especially vile, even for you."_

 _Percy laughed out loud. "I've always liked that about you. You're an honorable and honest man. In our business that's a rare commodity."_

 _"Is that all?" Michael said keeping his feelings buried._

 _Division's leader chuckled. "Lighten up."_

 _"I take it your previous deplorable suggestion has been rescinded?" Michael asked, trying to keep his jaw from clenching._

 _Percy huffed. "There is one more item. That stunt you and Nikita pulled was against my orders. I'll give you leeway since Oversight approves of damage control, but to prove my point, I'm sending Nikita out with Roan. You will stay here and vet out agents who have been out on long term cover assignments." He whispered under his breath. "You're Birkhoff's bitch."_

 _Michael chose not to hear the insult, instead, for a split second there was a glimmer of concern that ran through him. "Roan? That would be Operation Pale Fire?"_

 _"Correct. It will do her some good to work with Roan, he has his own way of doing things." Percy dismissed him with a nod of his head._

 _"I'll let Nikita know to report to him." He walked to the door and let himself out. He took a deep breath before walking down the corridor, and when he turned the corner, Nikita was waiting for him._

 _"What happened?" She asked out of concerned curiosity._

 _Michael gave her a reassuring look. "Percy was yanking my chain, he knows how to hit a nerve, but I'm not worried."_

 _Nikita gave him a sad smile. "I'm not afraid of him, as long as he doesn't hurt you... what I mean is as long as he doesn't try to use us against each other."_

 _"He won't." Don't read between the lines, he told himself._

 _"What am I getting, twenty lashes or solitary confinement with bread and water." She asked nervously._

 _Michael smiled. "Much worse. You're being sent out on Roan's next mission. I'm staying behind to be tortured by Birkhoff."_

 _Her expression was unreadable. "Russia, here I come..."_

Michael lurched forward and realized where he was. Whatever he thought he knew was in the past, he thought sadly, as he pulled himself together and left Operations.

* * *

Next: Epilogue


	34. Epilogue

What would you do if someone offered you a large sum of money to make friends with someone? How would you feel if they asked you to become romantically involved with them to gain their trust? If you sincerely like each other, than all is forgiven, right? These were the questions that ran through Nathan Colville's mind, while he stood in front of Alex's apartment door, debating on whether or not to knock.

Like Birkhoff said, Nathan was paying attention and keeping his eye out for her, which were nice ways of saying he was spying. In the beginning, he never considered he would actually start to have feelings for her. This was supposed to be about money and when he had been approached by not one, but two men, looking for information about the young woman with the evasive past, he thought "awesome" but maybe the correct verb should have been "loathsome."

Alex had never had a real boyfriend and not surprisingly, she had an aversion to men in general. It started with her father, who she loved dearly, but who was domineering and controlling. Then there were the monsters, they were deplorable hustlers and treated women like trash. They made their paltry living pimping and dealing and the memory made her shudder with disgust. Now, it was the men from Division who ran her life. Percy, who personified evil and mocked humanity with his contempt, Michael whose dark aura and mysterious background made him an enigma, and Birkhoff whose best qualities were deeply hidden.

There was only one person in Division that never tried to corner her with his secrets or lies, Thom, her fellow recruit. He surprised her by being different. Seeing herself through his eyes, made her look twice at who she had become. She often wondered, what it would have been like if they had met on the outside, but there was no use dwelling on that, or the unbearable misgivings she had about him. Thom had become a casualty of her survival and dying by her hand was a tragedy that couldn't be avoided. His last words, "you're going to see me" would always haunt her.

Her history with men had always caused her pain, confusion and sadness. When she met the man across the hall, it felt fresh. Even though she had been repeatedly warned about becoming involved with civilians, she defied those warnings because the one thing in her life she coveted was normal, and Nathan seemed to be blissfully normal.

Nathan stood outside her apartment and with an oppressive amount of guilt, he rapped his knuckles on her door. When it opened and Alex stood looking at him with bright smiling eyes, he knew he was in trouble, and she knew the same thing.

Nathan didn't know that Ari Tasarov worked for a Russian black ops group and that Sergei Semak had murdered Alex's family to gain control of their empire. Knowing these things might have made him act differently, but he didn't ask and they didn't tell. Instead, he went with wishful thinking and that seemed to relieve his guilt, knowing he might actually be helping the pretty young woman who had moved in across the hall from his own apartment.

Ari Tasarov was an opportunist, and the young Russian heiress would be just the leverage he needed to befriend Zetrov's empire. Taking down Division in the process was the added bonus and blackmailing Nikita would be the icing on the cake. The thought of those black boxes practically made him salivate.

On the other hand, when Semak found out that Alexandra Udinov was alive, he knew he had a serious loose end to deal with. However, he had recently been briefed on the existence of Percy's black boxes and the U.S. Government secret's they contained. Her involvement was very intriguing, indeed.

The Russians weren't the only ones who had black boxes on their mind.

The subject wasn't far from the mind of another rogue Division agent, who at this moment, lay on a table in a gritty looking shop housed in the west end of London. Owen turned his head away as the ink artist worked on his bicep and expanded his range of tattoos. He had come to enjoy the sting of the needle and it reinforced his belief that the permanent body art would ensure he would never forget his victims. He saw this as a way toward his salvation. The tattoo artist leaned back on his stool and admired his work, while Owen fought against another crushing headache.

Owen knew the lack of "the regiment," the drug program Percy had put him and other Guardians on, was affecting him negatively, but he didn't equate negative with psychotic. All he knew was he had to persevere, and to get back to where he needed to be, Division and Percy had to be taken down.

He was close to finding the Guardian, and the closer he got, he found himself becoming more and more agitated. He needed someone to work with and who understood what he was going through. He would give it more time, but soon, he would head back to the States, and with Nikita by his side, they would return to London and find the little black box that held so many secrets.

Back at Langley, these same little black boxes were never far from Ryan Fletcher's mind. After Nikita had saved his life, he was committed to helping her. She told him a few of the more detestable aspects of Division, such as training troubled teenagers to be assassins and putting kill chips at the base of their brain. It was in his moral code not to turn a blind eye to the prospects of finding traitors within the walls of our own government, he felt he owed it to his brother, who was killed in action and the other men and women who served to keep our country safe.

When his superiors blocked his access to information and refused to answer his questions, the more determined he became, but at the moment, his obsession was set aside for the short email thread in front of him. The chatter he was deciphering proved to be a good distraction on finding out who in the government was sanctioning Percy's House of Horror.

His initial glance at the messages weren't all that interesting, but a mental red flag popped up, it might have been something he had read or even his intuition, but it seemed relevant and important. Ryan scribbled a few words in a notebook and tucked it into his briefcase next to the canister of tear gas that Owen had given him at the lake front cabin. The canister served to remind him to be cautious. The world had become much more dangerous and he would help Nikita keep it safe in any way he could.

* * *

Inside the walls of Division, Percy pecked away at the laptop computer perched on his desk. His eyes were glued to the screen and he only acknowledged his visitor after an awkward pause.

"Birkhoff…" Percy was in one of those cryptic moods, not easily decipherable and cold to the touch.

"Yes. You wanted to see me?" Birkhoff tried not to fidget, but this was one of his least favorite hot seats.

Percy looked over the top of his screen, giving the I.T. Wizard the once over. "I need you to do something for me."

Birkhoff swallowed but remained silent.

"I need you to find out everything there is about Dustin Zimmer and specifically his current project, a device, code named, Oculus." Percy went back to typing on his laptop.

Heaving a silent inner sigh of relief, he answered. "Zimmer? He's a wunderkid in developing new hardware and whatever he's been working on has been super hush hush."

Percy nodded. "That's right, and there are a few others who would love to get their hands on it. Go. Do your thing and let me know what you find out. Once we know what we're dealing with, we'll get Michael on it, this might be a good retrieval mission for a new agent, like Alex."

Birkhoff nodded affirmatively and left Percy's office. He felt a huge burden had been lifted off of him and he thought to himself, " _Oculus? Well finally, an easy mission, this should be straightforward, no scary hidden issues and no bloodshed. It should be a snap."_

He left Percy's office and walked down the corridor with his head down and hurried past the other hot seat, Amanda's office. Behind her closed door, she sat in the white arm chair that had become her throne, and made a phone call. Amanda had perfected the art of calm and knew she had the ear of the influential and important.

"Hello, please tell the Senator that Amanda is on the phone. She'll know who I am." She told the voice on the other end.

The aide who answered the call hesitated and asked her to hold. Amanda waited for a moment before a sultry voice answered her.

"Amanda, how are you?" The Senator asked politely.

"Reasonably well, thank you for asking." She paused for just a moment. "I appreciate the pleasantries, however, I think we both know why I'm calling."

"Percy?"

"Yes, Percy. I feel Oversight should be made aware of a few situations."

It was the Senator's turn to pause. "Lunch, in the next few days? I'll ask the others to join us."

"I'll look forward to it." Amanda hung up her phone and with a knowing, self satisfied expression. She stood and left her office and headed toward Operations where she was needed to follow up on an overseas mission.

Like two ships passing in the night, she brushed past Michael and endured his cold glare as she went by.

* * *

As the days turned to weeks, Michael still struggled with knowing someone he cared about had betrayed him. In so many ways, he had forgotten how to forgive, Division had made sure of that, and his anger and hurt became inseparable.

Remembering the events in Uzbekistan reminded him, too much had happened between them to ever trust Nikita again. During the day, he easily became Percy's efficient machine, hard and uncompromising, just the way Division had taught him. He saw his work as the price one pays for democracy and freedom and a way to further his personal goals of revenge.

His waking hours were filled with conscious decisions and unfaltering loyalty, but at night, like a ghost from the past, Nikita would creep into his dreams while he slept.

 _Michael's eyelids fluttered open and his eyes worked to focus in the dimly lit room. The mission! Where was he? Where was Angelica? The questions bombarded him as he tried to sit up._

" _Michael, it's me, easy does it… don't move to fast." Nikita voice was like a cooling salve and diminished the panic he felt._

" _Where am I?" He asked, as she helped him to sit up, placing a pillow behind his head._

" _Hotel, you're still in Barcelona." She answered while handing him a glass of water. "Drink slowly."_

 _He did as instructed and she and the rest of room slowly came into focus._

" _I got her, she's been turned over to Percy's posse." Nikita looked smug._

" _What about the location of the vault… and the key?" He asked, genuinely confused._

 _Nikita looked at him thoughtfully. "What's the last thing you remember?"_

 _He concentrated and closed his eyes with humiliation, thinking about the blonde woman who he was sent in to seduce for her secrets, "I came back to her room, I was going to…"_

 _She grinned at him. "Lucky for you, I won the coin toss. Donovan got the hallway and I got to watch the surveillance cam on her room."_

" _How did she do it?" He asked grimacing in pain._

 _She held out her hand and in her palm was a sapphire pin. "She tried to stab you with this, but your quick superhero moves caused her to miss and she just pricked your skin. Had you not practiced the defensive moves I taught you, the toxin would have gone into your carotid artery."_

 _Michael knew she was enjoying this. "What did you do? Drop in through the window and sneak up behind her while she hovered over me? Was she ready to… you know…"_

 _Nikita looked at him with amusement. "Room door, pass key, but I was completely bad ass when I jumped her. You could say I saved the day and your virtue. However, any long-term relationship that Percy thought you might cultivate with Ms Angelica, who wears too much eyeliner, has been foiled."_

 _She took his hand in her hers and patted it affectionately. It was meant to be friendly but it felt like more. When she started to pull her hand away, he interlaced his fingers with hers…_

Friendship, respect and that relentless attraction filled his subconscious. He felt warmth in his heart for her, until he eventually awoke with a start and any inkling of joy he felt, was destroyed as his head cleared and he thought about her lies and betrayal.

"Nikita…" Michael thought to himself. "How could you?"

* * *

Her face was scrubbed clean and a wool beret covered her head. A pair of aviator glasses covered her eyes and kept the world around her out. Nikita walked along the path until she came to a clearing where the shallow waves of the bay lapped up onto the beach.

She sat down on a bench and watched the water in the foreground, while just beyond it the cityscape loomed on the horizon. It was mid-week and peaceful, a few men and women walked their dogs and a group of elderly people were doing Tai-Chi on the lawn.

Whether she was ready for it or not, there was no stopping time and she looked ahead with purpose. Percy was out of control, but it was the danger Alex had been put in that nagged at her. Sometimes she wondered if her goal of taking down Division wasn't purely selfish, and when she felt this way, it always brought her back to the relationship she had with Michael.

 _"What do you want me to do?" She whispered, her voice cracked with emotion._

 _For a moment she clearly saw what he wanted. She saw it in his eyes. He wanted her heart and to acknowledge the power they created between them, but the moment came and went and disappeared in a cloud of regret._

" _Nikita… our lives don't belong to us. We are here because of choices that we made, or that were made for us." He said solemnly._

 _Once again, the pain his denial brought, stabbed her in the heart. "I guess what you're saying is, there is no we, there never was."_

Nikita shook away the memory. She took a deep breath and felt her hands close into fists. It was time to get back to the loft and make some plans. She stood and walked toward her future, while her past, like a ball and chain attached to her ankle, trailed behind her.

(You know it's not) The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it here, you have my undying gratitude for reading my fan fic. I realize this was long and drawn out and if I were to rewrite it, I would cut half of it out. But in the spirit of a WIP, you get the whole overblown story.
> 
> As with almost every fan fic I write, they start out with a simple premise and end up in some complicated and convoluted story (one of you even told me that so I know it's true.) This was supposed to be about jealous Michael, but suddenly they were in the midst of a mission and everyone and their boss got in on the action. I thought about giving the Scientist a name and more background, but then I thought who cares? He was a tool to further the out of control storyline, that was really about - With all that's happened to them, Nikita and Michael love each other and couldn't hurt each other, even if they were drugged and lied too.
> 
> Originally my story was meant to be set between the episodes Free and the Last Seduction, but I had to change it because I pulled from some of the later episodes. I really try to be consistent within the shows timeline, but that is really friggin hard when you're traveling all over the place and getting shot at.
> 
> I think the best parts of the story were the flashbacks. In fact I would guess some of you skipped everything but the parts in italics. It's okay, you can admit it… I don't mind, because it meant you were reading at least some of it.
> 
> I know there are differing views on Alex and Birkhoff hooking up, but I really like it when an author can bring two opposite characters together and put them in a situation that is far fetched. I loved Birkhoff in the last episode where he helped Michael and shows some balls. So I wanted to make sure he was shown in that light.
> 
> I think I should have ended this much sooner than I did. I feel that after they all farted around at the cabin and got rescued, the next chapter should have wrapped it up. The subsequent story was boring. Somewhere in my brain is a Nathan is a mole for Gogol or Zetrov story, but it is a separate story and I realized too late that I shouldn't have gone there. Live and learn.
> 
> For those of you who have read my other fan fics, you know I get Michael to thank you for being so sweet and reading.
> 
> If you read this whole story and didn't ditch it, Michael says you get to come to his Season 2 Nikita Party. Everyone including Sergei Semak and The Senator will be there.
> 
> If you bookmarked this, Michael says you get to come to the Season 2 Nikita AFTER Party. By then everyone should be having a good time and loosened up. He promises a slow dance with you. (If you're a guy, you can dance with Alex.)
> 
> If you sent me a kudo, Michael really wants to talk to you about his future and the problems he's having with Nikita. One on one cocktails and dinner at a quiet bar and a long walk in the city streets, he wants to hear what advice you have for him.
> 
> If you left me a comment, Michael's been boning up (LOL) on his massage techniques. Many of you have already been fortunate enough to have one of his world famous back rubs, so lucky you. This time he's reserved a place in the Hamptons, with a view of the beach, so pack a bag, it's going to be an overnight for sure. He told me he has a whole new array of scented oils for you to try out. (Please don't tell anyone, you wouldn't want Nikita to show up….)
> 
> Love,  
> ~Sushi


End file.
